


Moon Cell of Red: REBELLION

by JurichuZ



Series: Moon Cell [2]
Category: Fate/EXTRA, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, HakuMor, No Hetero, Shoujo-ai, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-03-04 18:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13370415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JurichuZ/pseuds/JurichuZ
Summary: [REUPLOAD]After the threat of the Umbral Star has been taken care of, a peaceful life has been the standard for Hakuno and her Servants - Nero, Tamamo, Altera, Arturia and Jeanne, while most of the others went off to their own lives and journeys. Yet, Hakuno cannot shake off the feeling that something crucial is missing, some part of her heart. She doesn't have the time to ponder on this, because the established peace is going to run out.Trigger Warnings apply for later chapters.Also, reminder that I have a casual weeb Discord server (mostly yuri-centric) - feel free to join byclicking here!





	1. A New Dawn

**Welcome to the Moon Cell’s core, Hakuno Kishinami.**

This voice sounds familiar, yet so alien. A close relative, yet another species. Like coming from my own mouth, yet not necessarily a human language.

**I am no voice. I am the Moon Cell Automaton.**

Is…this the part that I tried to hack? The one that is supposed to grant these _wishes_ of mine?

**No, that is inaccurate. I am the Automaton, I run the Moon Cell’s core, the whole Moon Cell and the world as it is.**

This is the higher logic behind it all? Behind the whole world? It can read my thoughts and answer me, so that does not seem too far off. Or maybe, my whole life is just a program being run by this very ‘Moon Cell Automaton’.

**Your assumptions are as correct as they are not. Everything that happens, every possibility along with every timeline, I run them. I calculate them. I dictate them.**

That means, this is a God talking to me. But…why? Was I not supposed to win the War? But, as the Moon Cell Automaton controls everything, would it not choose its victor beforehand? How could Twice meddle with it?

**I do not choose a victor. I run the Holy Grail War, in a place within this very Moon Cell – which you called a ‘simulation’. However, I have no control but the SERAPH over any events. Despite hardships and being unfit, you have won with your own might. It was not my decision.**

But, then why am I here? Why am I neither deleted, nor back alive? What happened to Saber…to _Mordred_?

**This is something you have yet to find out.**

I won. If I am not being deleted, the changes I made should be compiled and processed, leading to their fulfilment, right?

**Yes, they should. They would. But, I, as the Moon Cell Automaton, do not possess the capacity to run your changes at this time, I am afraid.**

The Moon Cell Automaton that runs the whole world is _out of capacity_? This must be a joke. Why? How can this happen?

**A threat has appeared, for myself and the whole world. The complete universe is in danger. My full capacity is needed to prepare a way to remove this threat. However, this is futile. I cannot be saved, and thus neither can your earth.**

Wait… The whole world is doomed? And I do not even get to spend the remaining time anywhere but here? This cannot be true…!

**It is true.**

Can I do nothing to change this? Just…anything. Everything Mordred and I went through cannot go to waste. I cannot leave her abandoned!

**There may be a way. You are unfit as Master, yet you possess a very special quality. Hakuno Kishinami, with your aid there is a small possibility of success.**

I will do it. Whatever it takes. For the world’s future, for my own… And for Mordred’s. Or hurting her was for nothing.

**You will have your consciousness transported into a place within the Moon Cell’s highly sensitive core. I will summon Heroic Spirits to support you, from timelines this you never have seen.**

Mordred…might be one of them, right? I could see her again.

**Before you make your decision, Hakuno Kishinami, there is a crucial effect to consider: The port will not necessarily be without fail. Your cyberframe may be destroyed in the process, or split again. Even I cannot foresee the exact risk as the Umbral Star itself already infiltrated my core.**

I do not mind. This is the only chance I have to give myself and Mordred and even the whole universe a future – whatever the risk, I will take it. I seem to be the only one able to do so, and I owe it to Mordred. And Rin.

**Very well. Hakuno Kishinami, you will gain your consciousness after the port has been successful. I will be able to process and thus grant your wishes only should you be successful.**

And with that, I black out.

* * *

 

In a luxurious bed, I wake up. Next to me, the surely most stunning Roman Emperor – or rather, Empress – in existence: _Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus_. A woman that should be way too high for me to reach, and yet she fell in love with me. And, so did I – or at least she says so. I myself…am not completely sure.

We have been through a lot, here in the Moon Cell’s core. We have managed to prevent the threat of the Umbral Star, despite Archimedes – a Caster class Heroic Spirit who worked in favour of the Umbral Star and its destruction of the world – trying anything possible and borderline impossible to keep the Umbral Star on its way.

When I came to, in these new surroundings, my memories were blank. I remembered nothing but my own name, not how I got here or what happened previously. I was filled in, though there are things that do not add up: There are two Servants claiming that they were my partner in a special kind of Holy Grail War. This cannot be correct, but neither of them seems to be lying so I have decided to accept the both of them.

Even though, this comes with issues – They do not get along because both of them are more than just a little infatuated with me, for some reason.

Roman Empress Nero – the personification of beauty as well as narcissism, the ruler of this place. A Saber class Servant, fighting by my side whenever it is needed.

Tamamo no Mae – a mischievous fox, who took over most of the household of this palace. A Caster class Servant, who also fights by my side whenever it is needed.

With those two, it is always a fight between Roman and Japanese culture. As far as one could tell from my name, I am Japanese, but I do not take any of their sides. To be honest, I just wish they would start to get along, especially now that this place became completely peaceful.

And also, we do have a ‘child’ to raise – Altera, the little girl of what was a giant before, related to the Umbral Star. But none of this matters anymore, as we are her guardians now. And at least when it comes to her, Nero and Tamamo manage to quell their fighting to act like the responsible adults they are supposed to be.

There were other Servants assisting us, though. But, at this time – a few weeks after the peace came over the Moon Cell’s core – it would be hard to find or contact any of them. They all went to take care of their own businesses, as they were not really required near the capital anymore. So, for now, the palace’s only inhabitants are Nero, Tamamo, Altera and me.

“ _Praetor_ , I see you’ve wake up already,” comments Nero, shifting the cover with her movement. She is clinging to me, like so often. And while it does not feel entirely uncomfortable, it feels off. I cannot exactly make sense of this, but it just feels wrong.

“Yes, did I wake you?” Nero shakes her head.

“Of course not! You are too quiet to wake the most sensitive eardrums.” I chuckle. She is completely exaggerating as she always does, but I like this about her.

“Do we have any plans for today?” I know this is a stupid question to ask. There is not too much for us to do, after all.

“Not unless you have any, Praetor. Neo Roma is flourishing better every passing day, there is nothing even I could do to help.”

“I don’t think I ever agreed to _Neo Roma_ as name, Nero.” Ah, there is the fox girl – Tamamo. Of course, she would never leave Nero and me alone for too long, fearing we would do something indecent that she would rather be the one to do with me.

“Of course, it is Neo Roma. Every road leads to Rome, after all!”

“This has nothing to do with it! Something more traditional Japanese would be much more fitting, even for Ojou-sama. Don’t you agree?”

“Praetor! Tell this fox that it is Neo Roma that your heart is beating for!”

And again, I am the mediator. This exact discussion occurs every few days, and it never gets completely dropped.

In my opinion, Neo Roma seems just fine. Nero is the one who took on the ruling position, so it only feels right that she decides the capital’s name. And, this empire is basically made of nothing more than the capital.

“Are you fighting again? That’s bad civilization, isn’t it?” A white-haired child appears in the bedroom, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Altera – also known as _Attila the Hun_ – who is now the child we are taking care of. Her second question is aimed towards me, and I take her onto my lap.

“Not exactly,” I explain, as I already did so often. “Wherever there is more than one person, there will be fights. It is a normal thing to do and it helps to convey your point and feelings sometimes.” I take a look at both Servants still glaring at each other, but at least being quiet right now. “Though these two take that a bit…far.”

“My honest apologies, Praetor…”

“I’m so very sorry, Ojou-sama…”

As genuine as both their apologies are, I know them for long enough to be sure that this topic will come up again, and again and again. I am not exactly sure there is even a way to solve this, one time I suggested a solution.

I suggested, that this place could have two capitals – one ruled by Nero, one ruled by Tamamo. But this just lead to them fighting over where _I_ would be staying, claiming that would have to be the _main_ capital. When I said I would be fine with switching equally between them, Tamamo brought up a good point: I would have to take Altera with me, because she is too clingy towards me. It would not exactly be good for a child, so I dropped the idea.

Maybe those two are just meant to be fighting forever and ever. _Forever and ever_ , this seems like it is meant for something else…but that may just be me overthinking, or worrying too much. After all, for me there is no life outside of Neo Roma, there has never been one.

Or at least, that is what I have been told.

“Praetor! I have interesting news,” Nero beams at me, in the late afternoon. I do wonder what would get her this excited, but then again, she is excited about anything that is not related to Tamamo. “You remember Arturia? The swordsgirl looking similar to me, though not quite catching my supreme beauty and charm.” I smile. Nero’s narcissism may be annoyingly arrogant for some, but I sort of admire it, in a way.

“Yes, I do remember her. She had left for some training, or something, right?” Nero nods.

“Umu! But, recently, she has been back. She wanted to remind us that we still owe to treat her to dinner and said to prepare our wallets.” Ah, that brings back memories. Arturia eats about as much as ten people…who have been starving for weeks. And are giants.

“Could you please make sure a restaurant will be…prepared?” While both Nero and Tamamo would listen to my every order – not that I am giving many orders – I never really do much. Nero and Tamamo handle most duties, I am just here to make decisions and keep their fighting to the minimum of not destroying anything.

After the Umbral Star was destroyed, Neo Roma slowly got more crowded. Humans appeared, though I am sure they are in fact NPCs. Born from consciousnesses of real humans that once lived and still act like their original counterpart, and yet not truly real. At least, this is the only explanation. There is no way a mere human could come here, besides me, maybe.

But even I seem to be a special kind of anomaly, for some reason. Nero and Tamamo, both of their stories about being with me before this match when it comes to who I am, so I can be sure it is the truth. And yet, I cannot shake off the feeling of this being just not right. As kindly as I am treated here, this feeling just will not leave. Am I supposed to be somewhere else? I do not know, really. It makes no sense.

Before Nero can even make her way into the capital, Tamamo joins us in this throne room – which I think is really exaggerated, but Nero likes these sorts of things so I refrain from complaining. “Ojou-sama~” Tamamo always calls out to me so cheerfully, it almost makes me forget what sort of… _beast_ she can become in the intimacy of being alone with her, so to say.

“Ah, Ca— Tamamo.” Calling my Servants by their True Names feels really awkward to me, like something I should not do… And from what I have been told, in an actual Grail War you would not do this. But with here being usually more than a single one for a class, it would be confusing to keep up with the class names. “Do you need anything?”

“I was planning to make yakisoba bread for dinner today. I wanted to ask if you would accompany me and Altera in buying groceries,” she asks with puppy eyes that are really hard to refuse. Or at least I suppose they are _meant_ to be hard to be refused.

“Why do you not go with Nero, then? She was headed to the capital now anyways.” Both Servants look at me like I have three heads – or even more – and I could swear there are sparks of hatred exchanged along with their glares.

“If…Praetor deems this as necessary, I will accompany this fox,” Nero agrees more for my sake than anything.

“Anything you say, beloved Ojou-sama,” Tamamo tries to outsweet Nero and I have to admit that she really managed to do so.

They are leaving the throne room, and I do have some time to myself. At least until there may be a message delivered by an NPC that they are causing a ruckus with their fighting or something along the lines. That would not be the first time, but as time progresses, I have to give them credit for keeping themselves more in check. Maybe, if just a bit more time passes, the two of them will get along completely. I would really hope so.

* * *

“Mother is not here. It’s boring,” the white haired little girl pouts, poking a brick with a knife. “When will Mother come back? She promised to read me a story tonight.”

“I dunno,” answers a blonde annoyed, sitting on a cheap form of throne that felt more uncomfortable by every minute. “Why don’t you go play with Nobu?” This just made the child stick her tongue out at the mere thought.

“She’s mean! She always bullies me. Can’t you play with me, Mordred-nee?” The blonde groans in frustration. This is nothing she would want to do, this is not what she is here for.

“Got no time for that, really,” she says. If the situation was a different one and there was nothing more important on her mind, she would not mind playing with _Jack the Ripper_ – with those little kitchen knives she would not be able to harm Mordred either way, especially not with her armour.

“Booo. Killjoy. I’ll tell Mother,” Jack sulks and moves away. Mordred knew this child would be up to no good, but this is nothing of her business – or at least she does not care as much. All that matters is, she would fight on her command. And this command could be coming soon, a skilled Assassin as Jack the Ripper is crucial for her plan.

Oda Nobunaga, on the other hand, has a lot of different qualities, but none of them were any needed for this moment. Though they will definitely prove to be important at a later time, Mordred is sure of that.

“How long till we head out?” A short haired girl asks, visibly impatient to move.

“JAlter? I thought you’re still asleep.” Mordred rubs her temple. She never liked being that in charge much. Becoming king is one thing she always wanted to, but now that she had troublesome Heroic Spirits under her command, she realised this is too annoying. Telling people what to do, just to have them not listen too much. She could only hope that they would at least carry out their missions well enough.

“Can you not call me that?! I’m _Jeanne_ , damnit, Jeanne d’Arc!” In a fit of anger, she points her sword at Mordred, her supposed-to-be-leader.

“Jeanne d’Arc is, as far as we know, still on the other side. You are her Alter, aren’t you? Don’t sweat details like nicknames,” a lecturing voice cut in, and a woman with long, silky purple hair jumps down from a window from higher above, landing graciously on her feet.

“ _Scáthach…_ ” JAlter grumbles, gritting her teeth. She cannot say she gets along with _anyone_ on her very own side, but the other side would be no better. But Scáthach was one of the worse Servants to get along with, mostly for her haughty attitude, believing herself to be in charge of giving lectures.

The detested Lancer, however, merely ignores the dragon witch – for good reason. Picking senseless fights is not something she is fond of, especially with such – in her eyes – stubborn, immature people. Seeing _Mordred_ above her is almost as bad, if it would not be for the fact that she was summoned by someone else. And in the end, she cannot deny that Mordred seems like a brat on the outside but definitely holds potential of a strong will and leading qualities on the inside.

This very reason is enough for Scáthach to not question her rulership, as long as she would not outright disagree with decisions or orders.

“They have not noticed me, too carefree and gullible with their peaceful country. They have not seemed to notice this castle or us either,” the purple-haired reported, as it is her job. While Jack as an Assassin would be a safer option to send for gaining intel, she lacked the experience and rationalism of Scáthach. And Jack is just not as trustworthy when it comes to sticking to a plan or orders.

“Good,” Mordred comments. “But that can’t be the reason you hurried back, right?” JAlter turned her attention towards the two girls, and Scáthach nods.

“All three Servants just left the palace. The target is by herself for a certain time period, approximately an hour. Possibly a bit less.” While JAlter grins in anticipation, Mordred takes a deep breath.

“You mean to say, this is the perfect chance, right?” Scáthach nods again. Mordred turns to JAlter. “Get Jack here, _now_. Don’t you dare waste time.” JAlter would rather spit into Mordred’s face than to do whatever her ruler pleases, but this would just delay her getting out of this castle. Neither of them are allowed to show themselves too near the capital, after all, or they would be discovered. And that would have blown their cover and called for trouble.

As soon as JAlter has disappeared into the halls of the dark castle – heading for wherever Jack went, which is hard enough for her _Presence Concealment_ skill – Scáthach buried a gaze of her blood red eyes into Mordred.

“Are you _sure_ this is how you want to proceed?” Mordred nods, determined to go through with this.

“There’s not much of another way. They’re the one who keep _her_ imprisoned in their palace, acting like a happy family.” She clenches her fists, not really able to control her anger, and the hint of frustration that mixes into her emotions.

“Then I have no objections. Am I to assume I will lead the operation?”

“Yeah. I can’t trust either of them to get her here safe. Don’t you dare to allow anyone to lay a finger on her, understood?” Mordred seems much more serious than she wants to be, but this situation calls for seriousness.

“I do not exactly understand what is going on between the two of you, but I will not fail. I will take the other two and we will take our leave, then.”

“Report back as soon as possible,” Mordred bids Scáthach, her most trustworthy ally, farewell. But even this Lancer is not in her party because she would support Mordred or her decisions, but because she was summoned to join this party. And there is not much other options, and it is not like she would mind fighting.

_Of course you don’t understand. Who would?_ Mordred thinks, bitterly. No one knew about what happened before they came to this place, no one from her party at least.

She was Hakuno Kishinami’s Servant, and fell in love with her. They dated and decided to spend the eternity in the Moon Cell’s simulation of a school, away from everyone else and the whole world. Not an idea any of them would have outright liked, but it was much better than to face the pain of saying goodbye, for forever.

And yet… Hakuno, the girl she loved so dearly, abandoned her. She trusted Hakuno to stay with her, to love and need her just the same, but when the occasion was there, she ran off into the Moon Cell’s core. Even went as far as to use two Command Seals to make sure Mordred would not be able to follow her. However, she managed to get into the Moon Cell’s core herself, despite that, is still a mystery to herself.

She just would not allow anything, not even almighty Command Seals, to separate her from Hakuno. And now, she came to here, in this strange place, existing within the Moon Cell’s core. There seemed to have been a fight going on, and Hakuno was the one who saved the whole universe – something like that. At least, that is what she has been told.

But never did Hakuno seem to miss her, or ask anyone about her. She was with new Servants, living a happy life. Mordred all but forgotten. It hurts, and Mordred wants answers.

“Why did you leave me behind? What’s it for?!” She has to hold back tears, but it is not as hard as it was at first. Mordred is hurt badly, and the pain just will not leave but at the same time she is angry. She thought she knows Hakuno well, and Hakuno would not do such a thing without a good reason. But if she cared about Mordred, why? Why could she not just talk to Mordred about whatever her plan was?

“But I’m still here,” a smaller girl with black hair said, grinning as if she just caught Mordred in a prank.

“Nobu? Don’t you have better things to do than spy on me?” Mordred is visibly annoyed at another ally of hers sneaking into the throne room, more so because she has just been talking to herself.

“You thought about that girl you sent the others to kidnap again?” As much of a weirdo as this Heroic Spirit is for sure, she seems a bit too observant.

“Yeah,” Mordred admits. There is not much reason to hide it, after all.

“What’s the plan if she really rejected you?” That is indeed a possibility that Mordred prefers not to consider. But, as things stand, it is likely enough to be the truth.

“I dunno.”

“Are you going to give up on her then, and go for someone else? Maybe JAlter, you seem like a great match. Both of you are so tsun.” Mordred would need to take care to not let Nobunaga read as many manga anymore, it just messed her up even more. What does ‘tsun’ even mean?

“No way in hell I’d give up.” Mordred’s determination is strong, and she has never been one to give up. In the end, this is probably why Nobunaga has no complaints about following her, even though she also does not mind having her free time to sneak out to Neo Roma to get her grip on the latest form of entertainment. For now, she sticks to manga.

“Then what else? Force her to be with you? Enslave her?” Either Nobunaga reads really _weird_ things or this is her true self. Either way, these suggestions are just wrong on so many levels.

“I dunno, damnit! Go bother someone else,” Mordred snaps. She really is in a more than bad mood, and it gets worse every day. Every single of uncertainty about why Hakuno left her alone and if she even cared just makes her hurt more. And she cannot wait for the results of the operation she entrusted Scáthach with – they will not fail.

If they do, there is still the way to simply use force to take Hakuno back. She could not care less about those other Servants, even if her father of all people was one of the very few Heroic Spirits still lingering in Neo Roma. She hopes Arturia would not get into her way, but she would not be the one to deal with her father this time around.

* * *

“Jeanne! You are back from your trip?” I smile happily at the blonde-braided girl who invites herself into the palace’s throne room. Jeanne d’Arc has become a rather close friend of mine, partially for the reason that we share very similar ideals. And Jeanne is the personification of understanding and always has an open ear for any trouble someone has, no matter how miniscule. I really appreciate this Heroic Spirit so much, she just has this reliable big sister feeling to her.

“Yes, I have just returned and decided to stop by to check on you. How have things been?” I shrug, not really sure what to tell her. I am sure she can imagine how it has been around here either way.

“Nero and Tamamo got a bit…calmer lately. Still, it is not exactly peaceful yet.” Jeanne would be a great mediator between them, but I doubt even the holy maiden could really help this.

“I see. And how have you been? How about your memory?” Jeanne’s expression turns worried, and I just shake my head. Of course, I would not remember more all of a sudden. Why would I? “I’m sorry to hear that, Hakunon.”

_Hakunon_ – somehow, Jeanne is the only one to call me by this nickname. I would not mind to be called by this nickname more often, but by who?

“Ah, Arturia takes me up on my offer to treat her to dinner. Nero is currently scheduling it, would you like to join us?” I am sure Jeanne must have missed the cuisine of the capital on her journey through…wherever. Honestly, where can you even go within the Moon Cell’s core? How far does it go?

“Thanks for your invitation, but is this not an inconvenience?” This girl really is too kind for this world. Maybe this is why she had found an early end in her life…

“No worries about that. If there is any inconvenience for restaurants, it would be Arturia. Compared to her, you barely make a difference.” We share a chuckle over this, as if it has been a joke. But actually, it is serious.

Not that it matters. I do enjoy life in the Moon Cell’s core for the most part, despite there being things that do not add up.

Suddenly, Jeanne pulls me behind her, the suddenness of her action making me lose balance and falling to the floor.

“Show yourselves!” She raises her white flag, ready to attack.


	2. She is Gone

“Impressive,” comments a mature sounding woman, as she materialises basically from the shadow, her long, silken hair shining in a beautiful purple. “You noticed us early enough.”

_Us_? There are more Servants here? Where do they come from, and who are they? I have not known there are so many Servants still around.

As if on cue, a little girl with white hair and cat-like green eyes emerged from a dense mist, and next to her another girl who looks oddly familiar. Like, someone I have just recently seen. Wait just a moment… She looks like _Jeanne D’Arc!!_ Albeit her armour and clothes are black instead of purple and silver, her skin must be whiter, almost as white as her light beige hair. And her eyes are not a purplish-blue shade of warmth and compassion, but a dangerous seeming yellow.

Jeanne’s eyes widen in shock upon spotting her doppelgänger, seems like she does not know who she is either. This doppelgänger, however, chuckles.

“I didn’t think I’d meet you so soon,” she remarks, smirking at Jeanne. They _do_ seem to know each other, obviously.

“Jeanne? Who is that?” I ask, and I can feel that this situation is not exactly peaceful. After all, three Servants who masked their presences are probably not up to something good. Jeanne swallows, not taking her eyes off her lookalike, ready to react to any of their possible actions.

“That is…me. Another me, one that should not exist,” she explains. This sort of thing feels almost like a déjà-vu, but I cannot tell why.

“Aren’t you the one who shouldn’t exist?” Jeanne shakes her head at her doppelgänger’s question.

“I am me, just like I lived. I do not understand how you, or me, came to become…this,” the saint seems almost sad, pitying the other her.

“I’m the less naïve Jeanne, the one who sees the people as they were – worthless, ungrateful trash! I gave my whole life to them, to their damn country, and what did they do? Burn me at the stake. As a _witch_! God’s voice was nothing but a hallucination!”

“I am sad to see that you feel that way, but… This is not true. I do not hold grudges against the people, I offered my life to the lord. And…so did you.”

“Could the two of you can it? We are on a mission here, and time is going to run out,” the purple-haired woman speaks up. While her words’ content shows irritation over this conversation, her expression is as calm and collected as before. Just who could this Heroic Spirit be?

“Mother is waiting, after all,” the little girl pouts, agreeing to her companion. “Can I just cut her heart out and be done with it?” She draws a dangerous looking knife, like it is nothing.

“W-wait a moment, what do you want?” I ask them, maybe a battle can be prevented, or at least I can possibly buy time until Nero and Tamamo are back. Jeanne alone against three Servants, no matter her defensive abilities, she just cannot hold out for too long. I am honestly worried, but then again, I can use my Command Seals to strengthen her. They do replenish in three days on their own, so, if push comes to stove, this is probably a good idea.

“You,” the woman’s red eyes shine brightly, as she charges, aiming for _me._ Wait, what? Why me?

Jeanne quickly jumps in front of me, holding her flag defensively in front of herself and before I could realise what happens – Servants can move just way too quickly for a human eye to follow – I can hear metal clash, and the woman is now holding a red spear that reminds me of a certain Lancer I know.

“I will not let you harm our Maître,” Jeanne says sternly. While at first it has seemed a bit weird for me to be considered the _Master_ of so many Servants, it does make me somehow happy. Because they entrust their life to me, and I entrust mine to them – in a way. This could be forgotten now, as peace has been established and lasted for quite a while. Up until now, at least.

“Our objective is not to harm her, but to take her. JAlter, Jack,” she looks back for just a split second, but enough for the other two to take action. Why do they want to take me?

“Maître, I want to protect you but…”

“I know,” I nod my head, and hold out my left hand, decorated with a red symbol that forms the Command Seal. “Ruler, Jeanne D’Arc: I, Hakuno Kishinami, your Master, order you by the might of the Moon Cell’s omniscience and the Command Seal given to me: **Fight with your whole potential.** ”

A red light engulfs the Command Seal on the back of my hand, and it disappears, leaving only faint marks of what it has looked like before. Jeanne, on the other hand, shines brightly – suiting the holy maiden she is. Instantly, she has the power to push the other woman far to the back, excelling any Servant’s normal strength by far.

This is the power of three Command Seals, after all. There is nothing that could match with even a single Command Seal’s power, as far as I know, and all of them triple that. It does have a downside, however: Should I use all three Command Seals in one go, such as now, the effect will only last for a few minutes. After that, my Servant will return to their normal state, even exhausted.

I doubt this gives us enough time until Nero and Tamamo are back, but it is the only hope we have. And maybe they _do_ make it in time.

In hindsight… I should have used two Command Seals to call them back here. But I never tried this, so I am not sure how well this would even work. But… _Please. Nero. Tamamo. Come save us._ I cannot help but pray for that.

“Scáthach, the hell? How can you let her push you back?” JAlter – which turns out to be the name of the other Jeanne – complains to the Servant Jeanne just pushed back. Apparently, that woman’s name is _Scáthach_ , and I bet her class is _Lancer_.

“That girl used a Command Seal! It’s not my fault.” Scáthach stands up, brushing dust off her black, tight body suit.

“And, now? Going in with all three of us?” But the Lancer shakes her head.

“The effects will wear off soon enough, they are just buying time. You and Jack keep the saint busy, I’ll take the target. You follow me after she’s back to normal.”

“Got it,” JAlter says, drawing a sword. Jeanne has the same, but barely ever uses it.

“I can kill her, right?” Jack, the small girl, readies her stance as well.

“No, we aren’t to kill any opposing Servants,” Scáthach answered, to which Jack pouts. Just like a little child who was just told not to play with her favourite toy. Which is a bit too creepy, considering the context and that she only has been told not to _kill_ Jeanne.

“Fiiiiine.”

And, all of a sudden, they all go right for the two of us.

* * *

 

“Is something wrong, Altera?” Tamamo bows down, to see eye-to-eye with the little girl. She nods weakly.

“I feel like there’s some bad civilization.” The fox girl chuckles, already used to this quirk of the smaller girl. Talking about good civilization, bad civilization. She would call anything a ‘civilization’, no matter if food or person.

“Silly you,” Tamamo coos, taking Altera up into her arms. “There is nothing like a _bad civilization_ around anymore.” Altera nods, wanting to believe into the words of the Servant.

“I’m not so sure,” Nero butts in, looking clearly concerned.

“What do you mean?” Tamamo asks, suddenly not so sure anymore.

“I do feel like the peace is…suspicious. Haven’t you?” The fox girl’s gaze wanders down to the ground.

“You have more experience leading an empire, Nero. What do you think?” The empress thinks back on her life, as 5th Roman Emperor. Most of her memories are fond, but definitely not all of them.

“This just reeks of treason. Umu, I cannot tell when, but someone _is_ planning to backstab us,” Nero frowns. Not so kind memories come back to her, and she fears her guts are right. She would rather keep an illusion of peace to enjoy her wealth and love than to expect and experience being betrayed by her people once again.

Altera nods. “Bad civilization is coming. We need to protect Prisoner.” For her childlike appearance, Altera could say some very rational, mature things. After all, she somewhat remembers how dear she holds Hakuno, and for some reason, instead of ‘Master’, she refers to her as _Prisoner_ still. Both, the empress and the fox agree to protecting their Master, but from what?

“Who do you think would be capable of that? There is mostly NPCs around, they shouldn’t be able, with their limited conscience, to oppose us,” Tamamo says, knowing the feeling of betrayal just as well as Nero.

“A Servant should be the only one.” The fox’s eyes widen in shock.

“You mean… _Lü Bu Fengxian?!_ I knew he would turn against us!” But the blonde empress shakes her head.

“I doubt it is a Servant of our fractions. They know of our power with the Regalia, I doubt they would turn against us now.”

“A new civilization?” Altera asks, now more worried than before. She knows, as well as both other Servants with her, that a known enemy is always better than an unknown foe.

“Umu,” Nero nods, frowning. “If such a thing happens, it would be from the outside. Newly summoned… _Servants_.”

“Why would the Moon Cell summon new Servants here?!” Tamamo is shocked, and insulted at this mere thought. They have done their purpose here in saving the world from the Umbral Star, and Archimedes has been beaten. But if they have fulfilled their purpose, then why are they still here?

“I cannot say,” the empress looks down at the tiled floor.

“Maybe they’ve been here before,” Altera remarks. “Maybe they were hiding, and we just didn’t seek.”

This would almost bring a smile to both the older Servants, if they were not scared of some bad turn of events. Then again, Altera’s idea has been worded childish – who would play Hide-and-Seek as adult? – but not impossible.

“We never checked how far this place reaches, did we?” Tamamo frowns. She certainly has not, and she is unsure as to how much space there really is in the Moon Cell’s core. Nero shakes her head.

“I had built my empire – Neo Roma – and only focussed on its well-being. So, maybe… There were Servants who didn’t join either of our three sides all along.” Nero bites her bottom lip.

“And now they’re bad civilization.”

Nero’s and Tamamo’s gazes meet for just a second, and immediately they know what they need to do.

“We need to head back.”

* * *

 

Jeanne grits her teeth. Fighting off two Servants that are going for her throat figuratively – they are supposed to not kill her, but injury seems accepted – at the same time as protecting me from another high-class Servant is taking a toll on her. Despite the three Command Seals used on her, and I know they are about to run out.

“Maître, run,” Jeanne orders me, yet again. Within the past few minutes I kept trying to run, but Scáthach kept appearing right in front of my nose. Even with the big power up, Jeanne has trouble to push Scáthach back away from me. This is a losing battle, it always has been.

No Code Cast I know would be helpful, there is simply nothing I can do. _Nero, Tamamo…where are you?_

“What do you want from me?” I ask the three of them, not aware before that this is exactly the moment the Command Seal’s effect fades, leaving us completely vulnerable. Scáthach shrugs.

“It’s our order. We have to bring you back, and take care to not let you get hurt.”

“But, for which purpose? What for?” I need to at least _try_ to buy time now. It seems futile, but it is the only hope I have left.

“Can the questions, you’re coming with us and that’s it!” JAlter shouts impatiently, knocking Jeanne out with a swift motion of her sword. Granted, it would not take much to knock Jeanne out in her weakened and exhausted state.

There goes my last hope.

Scáthach gets closer, and I do not even try to step back anymore. It is me – a mere unskilled magus – against three Servants. She blindfolds me with a piece of dark cloth, then puts me over her shoulder.

“Let’s go, they’ll be back soon,” she orders, and soon enough we must have gone out of the window, judging by the high jump she took.

* * *

 

“The holy maiden…?! Jeanne, what happened?” Nero drops the backs she has been holding and runs to the unconsciousness Jeanne’s side, softly shaking her to try to wake her up.

“Where is Ojou-sama?” Tamamo looks around and wonders, fearing for the worst. She joins Nero next to the hurt Servant. “Just who did this?”

“Bad civilization,” Altera mumbles, sobbing. “They took Prisoner.”

Nero and Tamamo are near tears as well, as they do not know where Hakuno is or what even happened to her.

“They will regret standing up against the great empire Neo Roma.”

* * *

 

We seem to land, and Scáthach pushes me through what may be halls of a castle, judging from the sound and echoing of our steps. JAlter and Jack are still tailing us, probably to report the results of their mission. Even though this ‘result’ is literally walking in front of them right now.

A door opens with a creaking noise, and I am pushed forward, falling onto my knees. I can feel a rug below me, at least this soft rug prevented me from scraping my knees upon the fall. I do not dare to take off my blindfold, I am not sure I even want to see.

“We accomplished our goal and brought to you – Hakuno Kishinami,” Scáthach reports.

“Very well,” a rough sounding, but clearly female voice responds. Hearing it feels nostalgic and warm, but at the same time distant. As if I remember this voice’s sound, but the current intonation does not match with what, deep inside, feels familiar. “Ran into any problems?”

“More or less,” Scáthach says calmly. After all, Jeanne has not proved to be that much of a problem to them.

“Just my deluded self,” JAlter scoffs. “Took care of her, though it’s been a hassle thanks to the Command Seals of this little bi—”

Even blindfolded, I can feel the murderous gaze aimed right behind me, to JAlter.

“Don’t you dare to insult my Master, I’ll have your head,” their supposed leader threatens.

JAlter huffs, muttering “Try me” under her breath. Either the other one has not heard it or decided to ignore this remark, but given this impression of a really bad temper, it is probably the first.

“I take it you took care of her?”

“Yes, she has been knocked unconscious. None of us were hurt in the mission,” Scáthach concludes the report. “I will be taking my leave now.”

“Yeah, just go. All of you.”

I hear the steps of three Servants leaving the room. From the sound of the echoes, this room must be similarly big to the throne room in Neo Roma. It reminds me of Nero. And Tamamo, and little Altera. I wonder if they are already back, maybe they are searching for me?

The girl steps closer to me, stopping right in front of me.

“Did they hurt you?” I shake my head. Why would she be asking that? “Good.”

She fiddles with my blindfold, cursing to herself. As soon as she takes it off, I am blinded by light. My eyes need a moment to adjust to that, but as soon as I can see again, I am staring into blueish-green eyes.

A feeling of familiar warmth washes over me, looking into these concerned eyes.

The girl being smaller than me, but seemingly so much stronger, not only because she is a Servant. Messy blonde hair, put in a just as messy ponytail. Fangs flashing whenever she opens her mouth even just slightly. Red clothes, that reveal more skin than a girl probably should.

This situation feels tense, this girl seems as if she cannot find the words to say right now. As if talking to me would be hard for her, for whatever reason.

I am not sure what I feel.


	3. Do You Remember?

“Excuse me, but, who are you?” I ask, and immediately hurt flashes over the blonde girl’s eyes. She smiles bitterly, then shakes her head.

“Of course,” she mutters. “My name is Mordred Pendragon.” Mordred looks at me, as if expecting a reaction, but I do not give any. Hearing her name feels as similar as when I heard my own name for the first time – so it must mean something to me, something my heart can remember while my mind cannot.

“Do we know each other?”

Mordred bites her bottom lip, seemingly repressing a very uncomfortable feeling. I feel sorry for her, and guilty for saddening her. She had me kidnapped, yet Mordred does not seem like an outright bad person to me. There must be a reason for it.

I lean in and embrace her, softly patting her back between her shoulder blades. She slumps into me, and the shaking of her form indicates that she is about to cry. Why does this hit so close home for her?

“I missed you,” she sobs softly.

We stay like this for a while longer, until Mordred seemingly calms down. She distances herself from me, and just for a second or two after our eyes locked, I could swear she almost leaned in.

I know this feeling of being in the receiving end of advances, my life with Nero and Tamamo is full of it. But this is different. Neither do I really reciprocate my two Servants’ advances, nor do I stop them. However, I cannot say I feel so strongly about them. To me, they are loyal partners and family members, but not more.

This Servant just feels so different. Something about her makes me feel uneasy, but not exactly in an unpleasant way. Maybe I am imagining this. _Maybe I am falling victim to Stockholm syndrome, together with my amnesia._

* * *

 

“I didn’t introduce my party to you yet, did I?” I shake my head in response. I have met three of them, the ones who broke into Neo Roma to kidnap me, but I cannot say I really know them.

Walking down the hallway, a small girl with black hair and red eyes passes us.

“Oh, that’s her?” She directs her question to Mordred, but walks around me to see me from every angle. Mordred does not seem very happy meeting this subordinate of hers, but she complies.  “I’ll give you that, she’s really pretty.”

“How about you introduce yourself properly?” Mordred grumbles, seemingly eager to get this over with. The black-haired Servant softly karate chops her own head, indicating she simply forgot to.

“The name’s _Oda Nobunaga_! Nice to meet you, mysterious beauty.” I can feel the blood flowing into my cheeks. She is not exactly charming, unlike Nero or Tamamo, but at the same time her compliments are not cheesy enough to be uncomfortable in a first meeting either. A simply charismatic person.

“M-My name is Hakuno,” I introduce myself. “Nice to meet you, Oda.” I smile at her, hoping to get along at least for the time being.

“Just call her Nobu,” Mordred butts in. “That’s what all of us do.” But said girl just pouts.

“True, and you’re called our Knight of Tsun,” she bites back, only barely avoiding the just materialised red-silver sword rammed into the wall behind her.

“Excuse me, what does ‘tsun’ mean?” I wonder, with Mordred’s reaction it may be an insult. Nobunaga leans in, close to my ear, and whispers.

“It means she’s acting like a mean bitch, but in truth she’s really kind and caring, but way too embarrassed to show,” she whispers to my ear.

“Nobu…!!” Mordred growls, and Nobunaga runs off. I can see now why she has not been included to the mission of abducting me.

“Sorry,” the blonde says, scratching the back of her head. Am I just imagining this, or are her cheeks coloured faintly pink? “I know she’s a pain.”

“I did not know you could be this cute, _Knight of Tsun_ ,” I tease her, not able to pass up this occasion. She groans, grabs my wrist and simply pulls me onward.

In front of a wooden door, we come to a halt, and Mordred knocks. We step in, and on the bed, reading a book, is the woman with silky violet hair who has supposedly been the leader of my kidnapping.

“What brings you here, Sir Mordred?” She asks, not averting her gaze from whichever book she is reading.

“Introducing Ma— Hakuno,” she says. Did she just almost call me _Master_ , as if she were my Servant?

The skilled Lancer puts her book down and gracefully stands up, reaching her hand out to me. “My name is _Scáthach_ , I’m a Lancer class Servant. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

I take her hand and softly shake it, somewhat relieved that there is at least one calm and reasonable person around. “Same here. Pleased to meet you, Scáthach.”

We do not spend more time in this room, leaving the Lancer woman mostly to herself. I wonder who is next – there are at least two more Servants. The white-haired child, and the doppelgänger of Jeanne d’Arc.

“You are the leader, are you not?” I ask Mordred on our way down the hall.

“Yeah,” she says, not looking at me. “It’s a pain, with their personalities.”

I rub my chin. I can relate somewhat, dealing with Nero’s and Tamamo’s quelling is not easy either. “Scáthach seems like a really reasonable and reliable ally, though.”

Mordred sighs. “Yeah, the only sane of them. Then again, I’m not sure she’d always follow me. I didn’t summon her.”

“Who did?” Thinking about it, most Servants on my side have been summoned by the Moon Cell itself, from what I know. Archimedes may or may not have had an influence on that, but I cannot ask him anymore now.

Mordred shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

Knocking at yet another door, we step in right after. “Great, she’s not here,” Mordred sighs.

“Who exactly?” I lean forward next to her, bringing our faces to the same height, peeking into a very messy but empty room.

“JAlter,” she responds. “Just where the hell did she go?” Yes, especially now I can see how leading this bunch of Servants is not easy.

“She looks almost like Jeanne’s twin, but they are more like opposites, personality-wise,” I comment, observing the room. I am pretty sure there is some empty cup noodles but I rather stop looking.

“She’s her _Alter_ , after all.”

“ _Alter_?” Maybe that’s why she is called _JAlter_ – Jeanne Alter. Now that I think of it, this is extremely obvious.

“They’re Heroic Spirits of the same person, Jeanne d’Arc. So, in their core, they’re similar. But while your Jeanne is the saint people know, JAlter is like her shadow. Shouldn’t exist, because Jeanne d’Arc never had her negative emotions. No idea, honest,” Mordred explains, or at least tries to.

So, they are the same, yet are not. Like two sides of a coin, yet one of them has no reason to exist. Must be sad. I would like to talk to JAlter and learn more about her, I wonder if I can find Jeanne’s kindness in her.

Lastly, we go visit the child.

“Jack, introduce yourself,” Mordred orders. She nods.

“I’m Jack, nice to meet you. Are you Mordred-nee’s girlfriend?” She asks, with curious eyes.

“I, uh…” This is an awkward question in an even more awkward situation, so I am not very sure how to react.

“No, she’s not. Her name is Hakuno. And… Don’t be rude, Jack.” Mordred pats the Jack’s head softly.

“Are you two sisters?”

“Not by blood,” Mordred says. “She just picked this behaviour up, dunno why.” She shrugs.

“Is mother back soon?” For a second, I almost thought I heard her say ‘Master’ instead of mother. Mordred should teach her to speak more clearly.

“No idea. We’ll be going now, see you at dinner.”

“Bye, Mordred-nee, bye Haku-nee!” So, apparently, now she sees me as big sister as well.

One question is still open now, there must be at least one person I have not met. “Who is Jack’s mother?”

“Ah, don’t bother. It’s just Jack being Jack,” Mordred sighs.

I leave it at that, for now at least.


	4. Who Am I?

In a barely lit room we sit, an awkward silence clouding the atmosphere. Mordred is looking at me, making me feel somewhat uncomfortable. I avert her gaze, but there is nothing to do here for me. I am a victim of kidnapping, so I do not dare to move much, unsure what may anger this girl.

“Uhm, Mordred?” I look at her, and her bluish green eyes focus on me, signalling I have her full attention. “How do you know me?”

A few seconds pass, maybe it is a minute. There is no response, Mordred seems to be lost in thought.

“Just what is our connection?” I am close to desperate for an answer as to why she made the effort to take me by force, do I know her? But Mordred shakes her head.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” she says bitterly, and annoyed. “After all, you forgot everything _again_ ,” she mutters under her breath.

“Please, tell me,” I beg her. Our eyes meet, and Mordred takes a deep breath.

“I’ve been summoned as your Servant in the Moon Cell’s Grail War.” _Another Servant to claim this?_

“At first, you pissed me off.” Her irritated expression clearly shows this. “You were inexperienced and useless, but you kept trying. You never gave up, you’d face a fucking god and still take the smallest chance.” Her eyes seem distant, recalling memories that may be too far away, but burned deep into her soul, like scars.

“We did it, we won. We crushed every single enemy, but there was no future. I would’ve disappeared as soon as you’d go into the Moon Cell, and you were comatose, at best. You wouldn’t wake up in real life.” I swallow hard. This part is different from what Nero and Tamamo told me. I want her to keep going, even though this feels so unreal.

“We agreed to stay in that simulation. Stay there, for all eternity, maybe even meet the next victor. And then…” Mordred bites her bottom lip, seemingly recalling a hurtful memory. I lean closer towards her, she is not the kind of person I ever would have imagined to be so shaken.

“You went into the Moon Cell anyway, leaving me behind. I have no idea what happened then, but now I’m here, and so are you.” That seems to be the whole story. But it sounds so far-fetched. How can there be _three_ Servants claiming I have been their Master? Why has Mordred not been by my side to fight the Umbral Star?

“I am sorry,” I mumble. I feel guilty, a guilt that I could never make up for. I am not sure whether Mordred is telling the truth, but something deep inside me makes me _want_ to trust her.

She does not look like she is lying, and she seems hurt. I could not care less about being kidnapped right now, I simply wrap my arms around the Servant in front of me. “I am really sorry,” I repeat. Maybe I did no such thing, but on the other hand I want to comfort her.

I cannot possibly know who is telling the truth, whether it is Nero, Tamamo or even Mordred. Neither seems to be lying, neither appears to be making their story up. Yet, only one of them can be the truth, I cannot have more than a single past.

“You always are,” Mordred pouts, sobbing softly, nuzzling her face onto my shoulder. I pat and caress her back, providing the amount of comfort a stranger like me could.

I run my fingers through her blonde strains, and I cannot help the faint smile forming on my face. _She is cute_ , I think. Her hair is just a tad lighter than Nero’s, and she is wearing it in a similar fashion, albeit messier. Does she even comb it? Her eyes are a bluish shade of green, unlike Nero’s emerald green.

A few moments pass, before Mordred distances herself from me again. Our gazes meet and for just mere seconds I feel a strong familiarity. One that I have never felt before, neither with Nero, nor Tamamo, not even Jeanne. It is as if we are supposed to be one, two separated souls that just found each other.

I feel myself drawn to her, a scary feeling, considering I have been _kidnapped_. Before I can ponder more, Mordred leans in, to the point that I can feel her breath on my lips. My heart seems unsure whether it wants to stop or speed up, but my lungs are very certain to stop.

Until Mordred’s lips are pressed against mind – softly, but demanding. Loving, but longing. As a Servant, Mordred is stronger than me, and the mere force she is using to minimise the space between our bodies is enough to push me down, not that it stops her.

Neither does it stop me, as I am wrapping my arms around her. This just feels too right to think about it.

It may have been an eternity, or possibly just a few seconds until Mordred distances herself from me. I need to catch my breath, and seemingly so does she.

“I got carried away,” she breaths, seemingly surprised by her very own actions.

“No, it… it is fine,” I assure her, though I honestly do not know.

Thinking about the nights with Nero or Tamamo, they cannot possibly compare to this kiss. Mordred’s arms, this is where I belong – that is what my inner voice, my very _Soul_  tells me, even though my Mind doubts it. My Body seconds my Soul, but I am not sure if they could convince the Mind. Probably not.

“You love me?” I ask her, though this feels out of place. One should never ask that kind of question. A faint blush decorates her cheeks, as she cutely averts my gaze.

This girl could kidnap me, then kiss me, and after all she claims she is being through with me, this question catches her off-guard.

“Back in the war, I _did_ fall for you,” she responds. “Now…”

But she gets no chance to finish, as suddenly the door flies off its hinges, down to the floor in front of us.

“Praetor, fret not! For I am here to—“ yet, my narcissistic Servant is pushed aside by another Servant of mine.

“Ojou-sama,” the fox woman whines upon spotting me, seemingly worried for my well-being.

I can see little Altera peeking through between them, Jeanne, albeit not fully healed – probably because I have been missing – behind them and a very familiar blonde strain.

“Mordred,” Arturia Pendragon states, disappointedly identifying my kidnapper.

“Father,” Mordred breathes in shock.

Wait a second… Arturia has a _child_?


	5. Easy Come, Easy Go

The five Servants of Neo Roma step in. There is no need to voice their objective, I know just as well as Mordred that they are here to take me back. I am too taken aback to mutter any word, the events of the last few moments have just been a bit too much.

Nero materialises her sword, and points it at Mordred – who protectively pushes me behind herself, materialising her own sword. “Took you long enough,” she spat. As Nero charges in, Mordred’s seemingly highly evolved instincts give her the advantage of moving mere milliseconds after her opponent, successfully deflecting the former’s sword swing.

While the Roman empress is much more graceful in her every move, it is clear that Mordred’s moves lack the elegance of Nero’s, but a greater raw strength makes up for this – as she easily pushes back Nero after their initial clash. From where I stand, I cannot see Mordred’s face, but seeing her back makes me feel instantly safe – I feel like she would protect me at the cost of her own life. Foolish and irrational, but it puts me at ease.

“Umu, she’s good,” Nero grits her teeth. Prideful as she is, this woman has a real problem of underestimating her opponents. Arturia steps forward instead, Excalibur in her hand, however not taking a combat stance.

“What is this foolishness?” Arturia glares at Mordred, a strict paternal look that could just by itself speak ‘explain yourself’.

“Father,” Mordred grumbles, slightly lowering her sword. “It’s nothing you’d understand.” But the former King of Britain is not content with this mere, childish excuse.

“I do understand that you have abducted our Master.” The accusation is not wrong, but from just mere centimetres behind her, I notice Mordred is shaking in rage.

“ _Your_ Master?” Her voice is close to breaking, but she manages to stay composed – or rather, she is channelling the pain into fury. “You must be fucking kidding me. _I_ am Hakuno Kishinami’s Servant, Mordred Pendragon! None of you deserves her.”

In another situation than this one, a girl – or Servant – like Mordred being this possessive and protective about me would be charming but right now it is just putting oil into the fire. She raises her sword again, readying herself for an attack. Just as the other Servants react, through the window, a familiar Servant jumps in – Scáthach.

“You should have called,” Scáthach scolds Mordred, materialising two red spears right after. “You should know you cannot take on five Servants by yourself.”

Right afterwards, Jack jumps in towards the same window, followed by Nobunaga. The only one missing here is JAlter, who has been missing already when Mordred has wanted to introduce me to her.

“Mother said to hurry,” Jack says, drawing her knifes. Mordred rolls her eyes, materialising her full armour, covering her whole body from the top of her head to her toes.

“Wouldn’t drag this anyways. What do you think?” The big pile of metal directs her attention to Nobunaga. Of course she would, after all, historically speaking, Oda Nobunaga would be the greatest strategist of either party.

“Hmmn,” Nobunaga rubs her chin. “It’s five against four, so we’re at a disadvantage. Noble Phantasms set aside, they have a Ruler and we’re kinda out of a Berserker so it’s a rough thing.”

“I’m not gonna give up.”

Nobunaga sighs. “Of course, giving up isn’t an option. Their Caster should have a paper armour, their mini Saber isn’t at strength of a full Servant. I’ll take them on, Scát should go for the blue Saber. You go for the red Saber, and Jack keeps the Ruler busy. Sounds good?”

“No objections,” Scáthach complies. Jack merely nods.

“Go!” Mordred orders, and all of them charge forward.

However, before anyone could clash weapons with anyone else, Jeanne is shining softly – and I can tell immediately what she is doing.

“J-Jeanne, you should not—” But I cannot finish. Jeanne shakes her head, and gets on her knees in preparation of a prayer.

“It is my fault you are here, so it is my full responsibility to get you back.”

“Well, shit,” Nobunaga comments, and Mordred grits her teeth. They have not considered to face a Noble Phantasm this soon in a fight, and they should know enough about Jeanne d’Arc to be able to tell that its defensive capacities far exceed their own Noble Phantasm’s offensive capacities.

Jeanne sinks into her prayer, and reverberating through the whole castle echo her words:

**_“La Pucelle.”_ **

Everything turns black for seconds, maybe minutes – not a single sense would work in this black hole of nothingness, leaving every Servant and me as the single Master disoriented, until a blinding light emanates from Jeanne – paralysing every opponent in a certain radius close to her, big enough to affect Mordred along with her whole party.

The four Servants sink to their knees, gritting their teeth in utter frustration about their inability to move, a feeling of weakness unknown to the big heroes – or rather, heroines – of history and myth.

Jeanne collapses to the floor, as both her Noble Phantasms come with a great payback – this one rendering her unconsciousness for quite a while, the only way to recover her sooner than in two days would be using three Command Seals, which just is not an option right now.

My eyes are still adjusting to the now normal illumination of the room when I can feel I am being picked up, and even while I am turning my head, the faint scent of roses gives away that it is my beloved Saber Nero, holding me in her arms bridal style.

“Nero,” I stammer, looking right into her relieved expression – happy to have _saved_  me, while I myself am not so sure I need to be ‘saved’ to begin with. However, I get no chance to explain the claimed relation I supposedly have – or had – to Mordred, as Nero commands ‘our’ force of Servants to retreat back to the capital.

I catch a glimpse of the pain in Mordred’s glimmering eyes as I am carried off, and mustering all possible strength hidden inside of her for just a single line, a threat I would not have hoped to hear from her, making her clearly and completely an enemy of Neo Roma:

“This means _war_.”


	6. Declaration of War

The blonde huffs, the latest reports of her commanded attacks not even close to satisfying her.

“You _still_ didn’t get any close to their damn castle?”

“Don’t blame us, they’re prepared for attacks now. I can send wyverns, too, but they’re ridiculously persistent,” JAlter annoyedly states.

“What about Nobu?” Mordred asks, even though she already knows that she could not possibly have made much more of a progress as things stand.

“Really? You want me to say it?”

Mordred grits her teeth in utter frustration. Something needs to be done, and _soon_.

NEO ROMA’S CASTLE

“Just what’s that stubborn brat’s problem?” Nero pouts, clinging to my arm as tightly as possible without damaging my body in any way. “Billions of people to choose from, why does it need to be my dear Praetor?”

Almost mechanically I pat her head, softly running my fingers through her blonde strains. Blonde, just like Mordred, however a slightly different shade, and combed thoroughly. Nero cares for her appearance, whereas Mordred does not seem to. I sigh.

“I apologise, Praetor,” Nero speaks up again. “Here I am, ranting over minor problems, when in fact it has been _you_ to be kidnapped and tainted.”

“It was not as bad,” I tell her. And I am honest, no one has harmed me, at least not physically. Emotionally, I am not sure. I am confused about a lot of things, a confusion that will not be lifted easily. Most of all, however, I dread this battle between these two fractions now.

It seems just so unreal, ten Heroic Spirits, along with some NPCs, fighting over me. There cannot possibly have been a war for a more ridiculous reason. If anyone had ever asked _me_ , I would have told them not to fight.

“What did she want from you anyways, Ojou-sama?” I have not even noticed Tamamo sneaking her way into the “royal bedroom”, as Nero calls it. I am not surprised by it, however, as Tamamo just always happens to show up whenever Nero and I are any close to each other. If I did not know any better, I would assume she uses her abilities as a _Caster_ for a spell to watch out for these situations. Better not think about it.

Both of them are looking at me expectantly now, waiting for an answer. Well, it is hard to tell them, especially to hope for them to believe me.

“Mordred said she is my Servant, that she was with me in that Grail War.” I know I do not have to say more, as both of them understand. It is nothing new, just a third Servant claiming to be my “true Servant”. Each of them claims it, and neither seems to be lying. Yet, they cannot all be right.

“And I feel like she is telling the truth,” I add. I know this is pouring some oil into a forest fire, or even worse. But that is how I truthfully felt around Mordred, and there is no denying it. Nero and Tamamo do not react too well to this information, of course.

I just basically told two women that would not think twice about sacrificing themselves for my good that I believe some stranger Servant that she belongs to my side instead of them. Only now I realise how much I should have kept this to myself, but too late now. It is no use crying over spilt milk.

“Is she not the child of Arturia?” Nero directs her gaze to Tamamo, practically ignoring me. Great, she is giving me a silence treatment. Now I know I really messed up.

The fox nods. “They don’t have a very nice story, though. Ojou-sama, do you _really_ prefer that rebel over us?” No one ever tells you that fox eyes are much more irresistible than puppy eyes. How could I deny them? Especially when just for once they do not fight about me. It appears that only when another threat appears for their love life they can work together perfectly.

“I am not sure,” I admit. “It is just how I felt at her castle. She… Mordred is not a bad person, or Servant. I am sure of that, at least.”

Both of them sigh and shake her head so synchronised that I almost worry if those two are really my Nero and Tamamo. The gesture is nonverbal, but I know what both of them are thinking: ‘This is exactly why I fell in love with you.’

Tamamo wraps her arms around me and Nero, seeking comfort herself while also comforting the two of us. Truly, she is the most motherly of all Servants in Neo Roma. “Everything will be alright,” she says. And in the warmth of this embracement, I could not doubt this.

A knock on the door interrupts this moment of sweet intimacy.

“Excuse me,” the NPC says as he salutes. “Empress Nero, you are required on the battlefield, King Arturia sent me.”

“Umu, I suppose that look-alike of mine is lost without me,” Nero hums proudly, rising from our bed. Our gazes meet, and I know what she is waiting for.

Gently, I cup Nero’s face and softly press my lips onto hers, bidding her farewell and good luck for the upcoming battle. Never before have I felt so dishonest about this kind of gesture, and that breaks my heart.

I see Nero go, and feel Tamamo grabbing my shoulders and pulling me down to rest my head on her lap. As she caresses my brunette strains, I bury my face into the cloth separating my head from her thighs and cry.

I could not show these kinds of emotions to Nero before a battle, but with Tamamo it is different. She is not about to head into dangerous battle, she stays with me, for as long as possible. She is my comfort and the warmth I need.

“It will be fine,” Tamamo whispers. But she does not know that I am not only crying because I fear for Nero’s life.

I am crying because I am worried about Mordred, and because I feel like such a liar.

“I am sorry,” I mutter, sniffling. “I am so sorry.”


	7. The Decision

It has been just a few days, not even a while week, yet Mordred’s attacks are relentless. We barely get the time to catch our breath. Well, not _we_. For the most part, it is Nero. Even though she and Arturia are separating the commandment of our NPC armies between them, I doubt they can rest much on their breaks. I know Nero _cannot_ sleep, too tense and worried. I can understand.

I am trying my best to ease her into sleep, whether it is in the morning, afternoon or night, but often it just does not work out. If only the attacks would stop, but that is not enough. This whole _war_  that is fought for merely my sake (or rather, _love_?) needs to stop. There is nothing good coming out of it, everyone I hold dear is getting hurt. There will be no winners. Plus, I do not want any blood spilled, no matter whose.

“You should close your eyes for a bit, my dear empress,” I remind Nero, whose head is resting in my lap, as I caress the blonde strains of her hair which she is wearing down for once. I wish she did this more often, it suits her and makes her look even more beautiful.

“Umu, I’m trying, Praetor! But, any moment now notice could come and Arturia requires my help on the battlefield.” I sigh at her stubbornness.

“That is pretty unlikely, this whole week not even once one of you called for the other.” I can make out Nero showing her childishly cute pout. She _knows_ I am right, but she does not want to take any chances for _my_ sake. “Besides, Jeanne is assisting you from today on, right? No way they would get in trouble.”

“That much is true,” Nero gives in, turning her head to face me, her emerald eyes meeting mine. I know this look of her, and never would I wish for Tamamo to burst in more than now. “However, I would rather not waste any minute with you in deep slumber in this situation.”

As I do not respond, not entirely sure what to say, Nero alleviates herself from her lower position until her face is only millimetres away from mine, her breath softly tickling my skin. My heart speeds up slightly and a bit more blood than normal is flowing to my cheeks.

“Praetor, you’ve changed.” I avert her gaze, looking to the side. I am well aware that I distanced myself from her, as well as Tamamo, but I could not mention it. I do not want her mind to be occupied with this matter while she is in battle, however it turns out she has noticed all along. “Answer me,” she orders, however softly.

“I am sorry, Nero. Just… I am unsure what to feel, _how_ to feel,” I explain, though my words could not leave any more uncertainty.

“Umu, don’t overthink these matters.” Nero cups my face, making me face her again. She sees the tears dwelling up in my eyes, I really care about her and I do not want to hurt her. I should not feel this weird _pull_ towards Mordred. “Feelings aren’t of rational nature, there’s no wrong in whatever you may feel.” I bite my lip, holding back the tears.

“There is, if my feelings hurt someone dear to me.” I can feel the hot tears flowing down my cheeks, and I could not feel worse about myself than I do now. Nero simply closes the distance between our bodies, embracing me tightly. I cling to the bit of red fabric that covers her back and cry, feeling like I may never stop.

“This is exactly what I wanted to prevent,” I sob. “I am sorry… Really, I am. For not being there for you…in the Regalia… And for this.” She softly caresses my brown tresses, humming to ease my worries.

“Worry not, Praetor. We are in no direr situation than we’ve been before, with or without you using the Regalia. All of us are capable Heroic Spirits.” She has not said a word about the other half, the one that bothers me even more. I know that our side is not weak at all, but I know Nero hides a lot of sadness. So does Tamamo.

Both of them had people they loved turn their back on them, despite their unconditional love for them. I am supposed to be the person who stuck to them, no matter of their past or their faults and flaws, or at least so they told me. And so Mordred told me, in a similar fashion.

I know I cannot be with _all_ of them, but at the same time I do not want to abandon _any_ of them. Sooner or later, I will have to make a choice. I will have to side with one party, and turn my back on the other.

Regardless of who tells the truth about the past I have forgotten, there is only one choice I could make with good conscience. This is a question of whether I side with a stranger I feel unexplainably infatuated with or Servants who have risked their life in battle with me, who would do _anything_ for me.

“Nero,” I start, wiping my own tears and staring into her eyes – I know my eyes would never show the same determination as the eyes of a Heroic Spirit, yet they convey that I am sure of this decision. “Next battle, take me along. I will fight alongside you, in the Regalia.”

This may very well be the wrong decision, or at least so my guts tell me. I feel uncomfortably sick just thinking about mere hours, at most, separating me from facing Mordred’s party on hostile terms.

“Praetor…” Nero looks at me worriedly, but she seems to accept my choice. Like me she knows, making a choice was inevitable anyways, it was merely a matter of time.

Now, of all times, the door opens and Tamamo bursts in – _now_ , and not when I hoped for her to do so.

“We got message from Arturia, she asks for you to join. _Mordred_ herself is on the way.”

It feels like my heart suddenly grows heavy as a stone, dropping inside of me. Mere minutes separate me from making the decision I am not any sure about myself clear to her.


	8. Escalation

No matter how many deep breaths I would have taken, nothing could prepare me for such a battle. I am not sure what previous battles I have fought alongside a Servant, but I doubt any of those would be a match. In Nero’s arms, being carried bridal style, I am transported to the battlefield. Even from a distance I can see a swordsman, covered by armour that could as well be just a big chunk of metal, slashing through the rows of our NPCs with unmatched animosity.

“That must be Mordred,” I conclude. No wonder our side has trouble against her, and I can also imagine this battle being hard on Arturia, who technically has to fight her own child.

“Umu,” Nero approves. “Are you sure, Praetor?” She is asking me whether I have really made up my mind to fight this girl, and I reluctantly nod. Of course, I am not entirely sure, but I cannot just stay put and wait this out. I have to get involved, for Neo Roma’s sake – the land I helped build. I have to swallow my doubt and support those who supported me.

Turning to us, the helmet part of the monstrous armour retracts to the rest of the armour, Mordred eyeing Nero.

“So, you’ve showed up at last,” she says, and her eyes show the killing intent towards Nero, however they widen as soon as she spots me. “Hakuno,” she mutters.

“Mordred…” I am not sure how to face her now. This is like returning her declaration of war, and for a moment it feels like the battle around us has halted, waiting for the result of this meeting. Nero gently lets me down to stand on my own feet, and I rest my hand on her shoulder still, feeling hers on my hip, holding me protectively.

“I see,” Mordred swallows, seemingly holding back an outburst of some sort. Whether it is rage or sorrow, I cannot tell. “You chose _them_.”

“No, Mordred! Please, we… You can stop this,” I reach out to her, but she points her sword at my face faster than Nero could summon hers, stopping me instantly.

“Don’t get closer,” she threatens, before turning away. “I don’t wanna hurt _you_ ,” she mutters under her breath, before disappearing. And at this moment I know I have made the wrong decision.

* * *

Stomping steps echo through the castle’s halls, Mordred aimlessly walking somewhere. Or rather, anywhere. “How could she…?!” The wall cracks as her knuckles meet the stones, the numbing pain in her fist somewhat alleviating the emotional pain she is feeling.

Arms wrapping around her from behind slowly and caringly bring her back to her alertness, however.

“Dearest Mordred, whatever happened?” She grits her teeth. Exactly the one person from her side she has wanted to run into the least.

“Mother,” she mutters, not facing the woman pressing her front against her back. “Nothing.” In response, Morgan le Fay runs her fingertips softly over the skin of Mordred’s arms.

“I know when something bothers my beloved child. Especially when I have seen what happened,” she purrs. Mordred closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Of course, she has known her mother is keeping an eye on everything going on in the Moon Cell’s core, how could she think she could keep anything a secret?

“She picked the other side… There’s nothing I can do,” Mordred says, and instantly hates herself for basically admitting defeat.

“Of course, she would, dear. She does not see you for what you’re worth, just as the King of Britain. You loved the two of them, yet they rejected you.” _The truth must hurt_ , Morgan thinks, _but you need to accept it._

“I still love Hakuno. She’s not like father, she doesn’t reject someone!” Mordred fights against the embrace of her mother, freeing herself to face her from a distance, her eyes wet from the tears she is trying hard to keep at bay.

“Yet, she picked the others, no? The empress, the maiden, the fox. How could a mere knight compare to them?” Those poisonous words sting, and hurt more than any weapon could, even more than the rejection.

“No, she… Hakuno wouldn’t! I’d know,” Mordred sniffles, barely able to keep herself composed anymore, sinking down to her knees. “She’d never reject me, she loves me.”

Morgan chuckles, and shakes her head. “Dear son, you need to see the truth – she rejected you. She does _not_ want you, she picked others over you. No one you loved and gave your life for ever returned your feelings, they all abandoned you out of their own selfishness.”

As much as Mordred wants to disagree, as much as she _knows_ this is nothing Hakuno would do, as much as she remembers the doubt, the pain in the brown eyes, she cannot deny that she has been rejected. Hakuno appeared on the battlefield, at Nero’s side, signalling that she is ready to fight and possibly even _kill_ her.

“I still want her,” Mordred admits, her flowing tears slowly forming a small puddle on the floor below her. Morgan smiles sinisterly victorious.

“Well then, you need to take her. Like you attempted to take the throne by force, what is stopping you now? Being afraid of her hating you? That is of no concern, as long as you can have her by your side,” the witch reasons.

Mordred meets the hidden eyes of her mother, contemplating over her suggestion. Hakuno has rejected her already. Just like her father did. But this time, she is not alone. She can take Hakuno, even if it means by force, and just leave her no choice but to stay by her side.

Forever and ever, she can have her beloved former girlfriend by her side. It is the right thing to do, her mother approves and most importantly – the means do not matter, in love and war anything goes. She _will_ take Hakuno by force, even if it means leaving more corpses and destruction than she initially intended to. None of that matters anymore, being with Hakuno again is the only thing that counts.

Just as she made her decision, a black aura engulfs her, brightening Morgan’s smile. “Finally,” she comments, watching the transformation of her child, her own dark side having tainted her genuine feelings of love and taken over. It changes into a sense of possessiveness, just as Morgan has planned.

“So, Mordred… Or should I rather say _Mordred_ _Alter_ , are you ready to take back your love?” Yellow-turned eyes pierce the witch’s gaze.

“Anytime.”


	9. Out of Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter basically just builds up the next one. Have fun and I hope I can update soon again, the next chapter is the last one of the second Act!
> 
> Ah, by the way:  
> There's a Discord for Moon Cell, however general discussions are allowed, as well. Yuri headcanons from Fate are very much encouraged.  
> Feel free to join!
> 
> Quick reminder of my Discord for Moon Cell/general HakuMor/general yuri Fate headcanon discussions! Feel free to join it, I'd be happy to welcome you there, so are the others. [Click here](http://discord.gg/ScF8Jc7)

Nero is pacing up and down restlessly, rubbing her chin. She is obviously distressed, but how could this be held against her now?

“Maybe she gave up,” Tamamo suggests, referring to Mordred.

Her having given up does not seem too unlikely, considering what has happened. She has looked like a beaten puppy when she has been facing me on the battlefield the last time, then just left. It is possible that she took this as rejection from me directly, and has given up now.

Yet, somehow my guts tell me that is not the case. I have not spent much time with Mordred, but she does not strike me as a person to surrender this easily.

“I doubt that,” Nero voices my concern. “As hurt as she was, if her feelings for Praetor are sincere, she will be back.”

Right. _I_ am the reason she probably will not be giving up, and no more words are needed. Nero and Tamamo feel the same way about me, both of them knowing deep inside that, if they were in Mordred’s situation, they would do the very same and not give up until they have me back.

Those three Servants, and in a way, Altera, too, are so alike that I wonder if they could get along if they have met under different circumstances. But I will never know, I suppose.

The sound of a door opening breaks our silence, Jeanne steps in, scanning the room before, her gaze wandering from a concerned Nero towards a neutral, but worried (for me) Tamamo and finally a very tired me, leaning against Tamamo for comfort.

“Am I disturbing you, Maître?”

“No,” I say, getting up from the bed. “No, not at all. What is it, Jeanne?”

I am afraid of the answer before I even ask the question, the French Saint’s face telling enough already. Something has happened, something unexpected that exceeds anything we would have expected – and we have a Roman Empress and the King of Knights on our side. What could have happened that none of them would have seen coming in some way?

Jeanne bites her lip, seemingly not sure how to start or explain.

“What happened? Speak your mind,” Nero commands her, worried. If the battle-hardened saint is shaken about something that happens in a war, it must be something outrageous, in a way.

“Sector G of East Neo Roma is…gone,” Jeanne reports, earning the three of us wondering if maybe we have misheard. _Gone?_  How could a whole chunk of territory just be _gone_?

Nero just mutters weakly. “What…? How?” Jeanne’s gaze meets Nero’s, both of them clearly distraught. Not that Tamamo and I are any less upset, just more speechless.

“We had effigies patrolling that area, like the others. The whole air and sky seemingly turned black, red lightning appeared all over and then a sudden red beam. It felt like _dread_ , hatred and anger,” she explains.

“Were you there…?” I ask. Her explanation is so detailed, that I cannot help but worry about that. It would not make sense, as she is unscathed, though.

Jeanne shakes her head. “No, an effigy…half an effigy came back to report.”

Silence fills the room yet again, had there not been a declaration of war long ago already, then this would be it. I almost cannot believe this, however. Neither would I have thought of Mordred as such a violent, cruel person, neither have I expected her to be this…strong. Even with a Noble Phantasm, this much destruction is hard to buy.

Emerald eyes meet mine, and I nod determined. As much as I loathe fighting, I have made up my mind on whose side I am and I cannot take it back. Plus, if Mordred has gone _this_ far, she needs to be stopped. I have to put my feelings aside.

Taking me into her Regalia ring, we make our way to the area near Sector G. This time, all our Servants – Nero, Tamamo, Arturia, Jeanne, and even Altera – tag along as we are expecting Mordred to not be by herself either, and even if she would be, better safe than sorry. Neither me nor Nero would send anyone of our allies into their death willingly.

When we arrive, Mordred and her four allies are already there, as if waiting for us. Most noticeably, however, Mordred has… _changed_.

I am not sure, but it looks like her outfit turned a few shades darker red, and her hair lighter – almost matching her almost white skin. Her beautiful blueish green eyes turned a piercing yellow. She reminds me of Jeanne _Alter_ now, but that…

Upon spotting us, Mordred bares her fang and draws her blackened sword. “Finally came, huh? Took you long enough, _my love_.” I cringe at how she refers to me and I wonder if she knows I am in the Regalia – and how? – or if she just expects me to be here.

Our opponents take a battle-ready stance, pointing their weapons at us. I do not think that either side has much of an advantage when it comes to strength – at least neither side _should_  have – but Neo Roma has the Regalia. We are _supposed_ to win over them.

I am not sure how most of the opposing Servants see me. I know Jack is not too fond of me, for some reason. Somewhat fitting, at least height-wise, it is our Altera who is pointing her sword and the dual knives wielder.

“I won’t let you hurt Mother,” Jack mumbles, fixing her murderous gaze, one only an assassin could have, on Altera, though I know it is probably meant for me and every other Servant on Neo Roma’s side as well.

“You’re bad civilization,” Altera pouts, narrowing her eyes. “All of you! You make Prisoner and the others sad.”

They may be Servants and their strength should not be underestimated, but in a way, both of them are still children, and their words reflect just that.

Nobunaga points her gun at Tamamo, which is a smart move. As our Caster she is the one who could be a danger to them from a distance, so an Archer should be able to keep her at bay. Especially considering a sheet of paper has more defence than the fox. She is well aware of this deficit and grits her teeth, not exactly fond of the fact that an opponent could see right through that.

Jeanne Alter cannot hold back a grin as she is faced with Jeanne. The two sides of a coin, yet both of them beautiful in their own way.

“Finally,” Jeanne Alter comments, seemingly impatient to cut through her other self.

Jeanne, on the other hand, never was fond to battle. She does not shy away from the battlefield if the situation arises, and I am well aware that she would not even stop from cutting through her other self, reflecting a side of her that has never been real to her.

Personally, if I had to decide between the two of them, I would not be able to make a choice. Jeanne is a genuinely kind person and reliable, but her Alter has a kind of sadness and being misunderstood to her. It makes me want to embrace her.

Arturia is wordlessly facing Scáthach, though I know her thoughts are more directed towards her son, Mordred. And to whatever happened to her.

And, so are mine – _Just what happened?_


	10. Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder of my Discord for Moon Cell/general HakuMor/general yuri Fate headcanon discussions! Feel free to join it, I'd be happy to welcome you there, so are the others. [Click here](http://discord.gg/ScF8Jc7)
> 
> ALSO  
> [Skip this note if you haven't watched the first episode of Last Encore yet]  
> Well...they've done it. I feel bad for Hakunon. She didn't deserve that first minute, not even getting to say anything. She'd have been better off having no screentime at all.  
> I personally have nothing against male Hakuno, but this treatment is just utter bullshit. Sorry for the rant, but I had to say this.  
> Now have some more chapter of a story where Hakunon is the protagonist!

The Mordred in front of us is definitely different from the one I have seen. Something _must_ have happened, and I do not want to fight someone in this situation. I just cannot. Not without knowing what happened, at least.

I leave the safety of the Regalia Ring – not that Mordred has not already known I am present anyways – and face her. Up close like this, her yellow eyes glaring at me feel much more intimidating. Before, she seemed like a warm person, despite all her aggressive acts and even despite the declaration of war. She still cared.

Now, I am not sure if any cruelty is beyond her anymore.

“Showing yourself, dear? Saving me the effort of breaking you out,” she bares her fang, smiling at me. Mordred is happy to see me, visibly, but her way of happiness somehow leaves me restless.

“What happened, Mordred? This… This is not you,” I try to reach her. Such a drastic change in a short time is not possible normally, so the real Mordred has to still be there, deep inside – or at least I hope so.

“You did,” Mordred responds, never averting her gaze from me, stepping closer slowly. “You came, and I did everything for you. Would’ve died for you, but you left. _Abandoned_ me, for others.” Her venomous glare is directed at the Servants by my side, for the most part Nero.

“I did not…” I really want to reject the things she says, but I do not remember a thing. Maybe I did abandon her? I do not think I would do such a thing, though.

“You fool! My beautiful Praetor would abandon _nobody_ ,” Nero says in my defence. And I remember that my loyalty is what both Nero and Tamamo always found so attractive, it is why the fell in love with me. Feelings I cannot reciprocate, as genuine as theirs are. Yet, they defend me. “She hasn’t abandoned you either, not even now.”

I can feel my eyes watering. It is true, even faced with a Servant out to kill the Servants I befriend, and the ones who truly love me, I reject the idea of taking her life. I want to be on her good side, I feel like she belongs to my side. I need to save her, and seeing her I just feel some unshakable guilt deep inside of my guts.

“Silence,” Mordred orders. “You wouldn’t know. _None_ of you would!”

“I do,” Arturia speaks up. “It’s a bit hazy, I admit, but… I remember. We fought in the Grail War, you were by Hakuno’s side.”

Wait – what? Arturia remembers the timeline Mordred told me about? Why did she never tell me that she knows?

“And I killed you to get to stay with my Master for forever,” Mordred gives back. “I’m not hesitating to do it again.”

“For forever? What do you mean?” I wish I would remember. I would give everything to remember what the two of them are talking about, I want to know what pains Mordred so much to make her cause all of _this_.

“You promised. We’d stay together in the Moon Cell, _forever_. But when the time came, you paralysed me with your Command Seal and ran into the core. You _abandoned_ me! But I’m not letting you run away this time,” Mordred says, and if what she says is true, she has every right to act like this.

If I really did such a thing, that is unforgivable. What could bring me to break a promise to my Servant, who loves me and risked her life for me? Going as far as to use Command Seals to keep her from following me?

I sink to my knees, there is no will to fight her left in me anymore. How could I? I have already done bad enough to her.

“I am sorry,” I mutter, though my words carry close to no meaning, when I do not even remember what I did. “But what has gotten into you? This…this transformation, it is not you.”

Mordred does not respond to me anymore, as she already told me _I_ caused this. But, as horrible a thing I did, is that really enough to transform Mordred into an Alter of herself? I can hardly believe that.

“This must be _Morgan_ ’s work,” Arturia says.

“Morgan?” Who is that? I have never heard of her.

“My sister… The mother of Mordred, a power-hungry witch. Only she would use her child’s emotions for her own gain _again_.” I will ignore the confusing Pendragon family relations for now. How could yet another Servant be summoned here?

Suddenly, a woman appears behind Arturia, wrapping her arms around the King of Knights gracefully but surprising enough so that she is too paralysed to try and break free.

“How nicely you figured this out, my dear sister,” she purrs, before disappearing along with Arturia without a trace.

This…must have been Morgan. She was more than beautiful, yet had a dangerous aura to herself. That is Mordred’s mother? The one who caused the transformation? And she took Arturia.

The other side seems surprised at most – besides Mordred, who does not seem to care much – while our side is mortified. We lost one of our Servants, we are at a big disadvantage now. There is no way we could hold our own against them, especially if there is yet _another_ Servant on their side.

We cannot win, maybe not even survive at this rate. This is checkmate. We are done for. All I can do now, as a Master, is to keep my remaining Servants alive and out of danger.

“If I come with you…will you promise to stop the war? And not attack any Servant of Neo Roma?” I know I am betraying my Servants with this, but I see no other way to keep them safe. Even if it means sacrificing myself, more or less.

“I’m not interested in anything but you,” Mordred says, agreeing to the condition. “But don’t you _fucking_ dare to take my love from me again.”

She takes me on her arms and looking at my Servants I can see the same betrayed and abandoned expression that I am sure I have seen from Mordred already. I cannot face them anymore, so I bury my face to Mordred’s shoulder, holding back any sobs and tears.

We have lost the war.


	11. Twisted Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making another AN and delaying the start. But this Act will include a lot of non-con and rape even. Skip it and miss out some plot points/explainings if you don't want to read it.
> 
> I, myself, am not supportive of any rape or abuse myself, regardless of how I depict it here. Keep in mind that the relationship between Hakuno and Mordred in this sequel is complicated to begin with, and it's just getting worse with recent developments.
> 
> I feel like it was important I state this once at least, especially with how Hakuno narrates those things.

I am lead into a room more befitting of a princess, or generally someone of royal blood. Someone like Mordred, or Arturia, not _myself_. Mordred, however, does not waste any second on words or second thoughts and merely pushes me down on the bed that is way too big for just one or two people.

“I got you back, finally,” she grins and I am not sure what to make of this situation. Well, yes, I do know what is going to happen. I have had Tamamo and Nero try her own sexual advances on me often enough, but never have those two been as pushy and forceful. With Mordred, and this may be because of her current state, I know that I do not have much of a say in this. She will take what she wants.

And strangely, it feels familiar, nostalgic even. Her ripping off the white cloth from my body, her fang grazing my neck’s and collarbone’s skin, her tongue tasting the same afterwards.

It is wrong, it should feel bad, but it does not. For some reason, I feel like I want this, like I want Mordred. Not in this way, but it is not like I have much of a chance to form coherent thoughts for longer. As rough as she is – and something tells me that her rough play is not very related to her current state – Mordred still possesses skilled enough fingers and a mouth.

Before I close my eyes, giving myself to the pleasure she provides regardless of my consent, I can see her mouth forming a smirk. More genuine than any emotion I have seen from her since she has changed, and this is enough of a sign for me: Mordred truly loves me, even now.

Not sure how much time has passed, I wake up in a dimly lit room by myself. Next to me I find a robe similar to the one I have worn in Neo Roma, albeit black instead of white. _How fitting_ , I think somewhat bitterly. Looking down at myself, I am a bit covered in bite marks.

None of them hurts much and I know my situation well enough. I doubt this is the last time this happened. I am sure, the old Mordred _never_ would have done such a thing to me. Tears well up in my eyes at the mere memory of what has happened, and the thought that it will again. And again. And there is nothing I could do against it.

Mordred is in no state to be talked out of her desire for me, not anymore. I want the old Mordred back, the one who first abducted me, but how would that be possible? No one knows how she changed this much, or why. She could be called her own Alter now but this is my first time encountering an Alter Servant.

I put on the black robe she has seemingly left for me and stroll through the castle. There are no guards or anything of the likes, but that makes sense. There is nowhere I could run to, even if I tried. _And there is no one I could talk to either_ , I think bitterly, missing the familiar overconfident roman empress and my fox girl. I have grown so used to them and their bickering being around that I have never noticed how dear to me they are, up until now when I lost them.

 “Oh! Yo, Hakuno,” I hear, and turning my head I can see Oda Nobunaga running up to me. “I’d tell you to keep it down next time, as your neighbour, but you’re so quiet that I really have nothing to complain about.”

Is…Is she really making jokes about the night I have spent with Mordred? How can anyone be this indifferent to their leader changing? Have they even noticed?

“Then again, I think if I told her girlfriend something like this, Mordred would take my heart now,” she adds, walking next to me, not even asking where I am going. Not that I even know myself. “You know, she specifically told any of us not to get as bold as to even _touch_ you.”

“I…can imagine,” I respond, not sure if or how this conversation should be kept up. I miss the caring, good-hearted Servants in Neo Roma, maybe they have spoiled me a bit too much.

“Such a yandere,” the Archer next to me frowns. “Didn’t know tsun can turn yan this fast.” This catches my attention and I tilt my head to look at her.

“What did you just say?” So, it turns out, they have noticed a change.

“Uh, well, you know? Before, Mordred was a _tsundere_. She was so obviously in love with you but so in denial about it, too. Same with how she cares about others, and all that. Tried to hide it, but didn’t do it too well,” she says and it does fit Mordred somewhat, I think.

She has been really bad at expressing her emotions, I think? Especially when it comes to affection. Nero and Tamamo are much more open about it, and less shy. I cannot help a smile covering my face, maybe this kind of personality has made Mordred so interesting for me.

“Ooooh, someone’s into tsundere,” Nobunaga grins at me. I feel almost like hitting her, but I am too much of a pacifist and I also do not want to get anyone into trouble for having some sort of physical contact with me.

“And what is it about this yandere-thing?” I ask. Nobunaga seems to think for a while, before she goes on explaining such seemingly basic things to me.

“Yandere aren’t embarrassed about their love. But their expression is kinda twisted? They’d kill anyone who gets in between them and their beloved. Overly jealous and all, pretty crazy.”

“I see…” I say and yes, it does fit the current Mordred.

“Yup, yup. I’m not much of a fan of either, but just so you know, I ship the two of you.” I am honestly not sure what to make of that. But I guess, it was some sort of…compliment?

“Thanks?”

Maybe instead of running into Oda Nobunaga, I should have happened to run into Jeanne Alter. She is an Alter herself, so she should be able to tell me more than a few weird terms describing personalities. Sadly, I do not know where to find her, and just as I want to ask, Nobunaga’s red eyes widen as she apparently picked up some sound.

“Uh, well. I gotta go…in that direction. See ya,” she hurries off back to where we have come from, her face slightly flushed. I feel like maybe I should stop making sense of _this_ Servant at least.

A few steps further, I hear something as well. A female, somewhat familiar voice, in a panting way. Pained, even. I can see the slightly ajar door this originates from and for a few moments I wonder whether I should follow Nobunaga and turn back, or open it.


	12. A Twisted Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it came up in the Discord (which you guys should really join if you wanna discuss this kinda stuff... Or generally Fate Yuri. Or Yuri. Or meet nice people.) I will explain something about world-building that I included in an info batch of the original Moon Cell of Red but not in the reupload.
> 
> In short, Servants in this fictional work aren't really Heroic Spirits. Their legends etc. don't apply as much. Basically, the Moon Cell Automaton creates a "vessel" that is the specific class, which is as much of an NPC as the Masters initially. The Moon Cell Automaton has every person who has ever lived saved (even the legends), and those data is loaded into that vessel. Basically it's a highly developed AI, who is conscious, makes decisions, has a personality and can make new memories (refer to Steins;Gate 0's Amadeus, maybe? It's somewhat similar.) Basically this Mordred (or even Nero, Altera, ...) aren't the real ones, but simulations. However, the data the AI collects in their time in the Moon Cell's HGW is added to their normal files so it's possibly to bring a Servant back to life with all their memories.  
> The skills work similar, but it's a Master's job to reactivate them. However, a simulation/AI (basically a fake) is never as strong as a real Heroic Spirit, of course. Which is why, for example, Heracles and Scathach are just as mortal as any other Servant.  
> If there are more questions, feel free to ask!

I do not need to open the door to know whose voice it is. A stoic, prideful king, calm and calculated at all times but this. Yet, I have to see it with my very own eyes to believe it. King Arturia would _never_ succumb to _anyone_ in any way, right?

Pushing the door open just enough to peek inside, I am proved wrong. The anyone being _Morgan le Fay_ , the Servant who has abducted Arturia to begin with. This is the first time I am seeing Arturia nude and it is a surprise how similar to Mordred her body is. I am not even sure if there are _any_ difference between their both physiques.

Arturia tries hard to stifle any moan that would be a sign of the pleasure coursing through her body, this much is obvious from mere view. Yet, at Morgan’s skilled, teasing finger tips she fails to keep up her resistance.

Sweat seem to be on every little centimetre of Arturia’s skin, whether it is from the heat of what she is being done to or from her tensing muscles I could not possibly know.

“Dear little sister,” Morgan breathes seductively, blowing air on Arturia’s air, to which she reacts shuddering. “You enjoy this skinship, don’t you? You always did.” Her hands wander agonisingly slow from Arturia’s hips, over her smooth belly to cup her barely existent breasts.

“D-Don’t be ridiculous,” Arturia bites her lip, seemingly too receptive of Morgan’s advances. It appears the witch knows exactly which buttons to push to weaken not only Arturia’s knees, but slowly her whole resistance. It is just a matter of time until her fight breaks down completely, and all three of us know that.

“Oh, but I know what I am talking about. Wasn’t your weak spot around…here?” Morgan teases, biting Arturia’s earlobe, eliciting a load, surprised moan. Before Arturia has any chance to retort, she nibbles on the earlobe, not letting it leave the small space between her teeth, while her hands squeeze the small breasts of the king of knights.

Like mother, like son – or at least now that Mordred has changed this much is true. However, Morgan seems to have such a light, teasing touch, none of the rough play I have had with Mordred.

“I can make you come, you know? You just need to swallow your pride and beg me,” the witch reminds, to which Arturia merely furrows her eyebrows.

“Never would I beg you for that,” she states, though being interrupted by moans and panting does not help her credibility a bit. In response, Morgan merely runs her tongue over Arturia’s reddened ear.

“You will, my dear, you will. You may have taken hours of this, but everyone has a breaking point. Even you do,” Morgan emphasises her point by pinching both Arturia’s nipples, licking her own lips in seemingly enjoyment of what she is doing to her sister.

I snap out of it and clear my throat, bringing Morgan’s attention to myself, however Arturia does not get a break. I may be imagining it, but her face seems to have turned a darker red upon noticing that I have been watching what is done to her.

“If that isn’t my son’s beloved little whore,” she greets me and I wish she would at least stop because it is not exactly helpful for a conversation to hear sighs and moans from a third person in between.

“W-what?”

“Don’t think I’m not aware of what you’ve been doing with the other Servants.” Her tone is more amused than stern, so it appears she is not angry on behalf of Mordred at me.

“N-No, I did not…” What she says is true, but I had no memories. How could I have not succumbed in some way or another to affection from Nero, or Tamamo, when I do not even know about Mordred? Why is that held against me now? I still do not know what happened.

“Amnesia, right?” Morgan smirks. “Well, not actually. More like your memories have been _locked_ upon your arrival.” My eyes widen. This witch seems to know something about my memories?

“Did you take them?” This is the most logical conclusion I could make, but her stifled giggle proves me wrong.

“Don’t be ridiculous, why would _I_ need to play with some girl’s memories?” Well, why would she need to rape her sister?

“Then who—”

“Archimedes,” she interrupts me. “He saw you as danger to his absurd plans, but figured you would be harmless without your memories and determination. Turned out he was as much of a fool as I thought when he summoned me.”

Archimedes had summoned own Servants? Why have I not met Morgan until now, then? The more I find out, the less sense everything makes.

“Do you know how I could get them back?” I just hope to get this conversation over with.

“Why, but of course I do. I could do so myself, who do you think is keeping your memories?” Morgan does, obviously.

“Would you, please…?”

“Obviously not,” Morgan shakes her head, before bringing down her teeth to graze Arturia’s collarbone, as if to remind me of her stance in some way. “If you remembered everything, that would be a hindrance to my plans.”

This is so utterly frustrating! Without my memories, I could not possibly understand Mordred’s pain, or what has been between us. I cannot possibly change anything for the better without them.

“What about Mordred?! Do you not care for her well-being? Without my memories—” Morgan puts up her hand to stop me from going on.

“Why would I want her to be the rebel she’s always been? Like this she is much easier to figure out and use, don’t you think? She’d destroy everything if it stood between her and you,” the witch smirks and I feel rage boiling inside of me.

“She is your _son_!” How can she be so nonchalant about Mordred’s feelings? It stings, it hurts me.

“A _homunculus_ , that’s what she is. A successor to the throne, but she was so blinded by the oh-so-perfect king that she didn’t even amount to what she was born for. Now she at least plays her role.” As if to prove that this time she stands (or lays) above the king of knights, she bites Arturia’s neck.

“This is disgusting. You’re horrible,” I state, feeling tears well up in my eyes. Mordred does not deserve such a mother, if you can even call her that.

“And you’re cute, especially with that frustrated expression. Now, would you excuse me? I have something to do,” Morgan smirks. “Or rather, some _one_.”

I turn my back on them and smash the door closed. I am too powerless by myself, but I cannot stand still and be passive. This witch needs to be stopped, but most importantly, Mordred needs me.

I have to save her.


	13. True Heart

Before I can make a step, I look into cat-like, green eyes. The eyes of a predator. Jack the Ripper stands before me, not exactly someone I would want to meet in a dark hallway all by myself. She pulls her knife, holding it too tight for comfort to my neck, after pulling me down by my hair.

“Don’t you dare hurt Mother. I’ll eat your heart if you do,” Jack threatens, and I know she is more than serious. I swallow hard, not daring to nod out of fear the knife’s blade would break my skin.

“Y-yes, I won’t,” I tell her.

“Liar.” It feels like she is looking right through me, and her murderous intent is very clear to me. Or anyone, definitely.

“Knock it off, Jack, you don’t wanna piss off Mordred.” Next is a clunk, and Jack holds the back of her head like a child that has been hit by their parents. I have been saved by Jeanne Alter of all people. Though I doubt she has helped me out of her good nature, that would not be like her.

I earn a last glare from Jack, before she almost literally vanishes into the darkness. That must be an Assassin for you. Scary in more than just one way.

“Thanks,” I say as I follow Jeanne Alter, to her visible annoyance.

“No need to. You shouldn’t walk around all by yourself,” she warns me, almost like a big sister. Slowly I can see the similarities between her and Jeanne, and it puts a faint smile on my face. Familiarity is something I badly need right now.

“Well, now I am with you, right?” Jeanne Alter only turns her face further away from me, a hue of red decorating her cheeks.

“Don’t you start flirting with me now! Mordred is gonna kill me.” Flirting…? I am not sure what she means.

“Anyway, uh, can I come to your room with you?” I ask her, as she is the only one who can maybe tell me anything useful about Mordred’s transformation. Then again, no one should know what I am doing. Especially not Mordred or Morgan, I do not want to put Jeanne Alter in trouble. “Is it soundproof?”

When Jeanne Alter turns her head back to me, her face is completely flushed and she seems angrier than I can remember seeing someone. Have I said something wrong?

“W-What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why would we need a soundproof room? Are you stupid?!”

“I would get in trouble if Mordred heard…or Morgan,” I explain her, lowering my voice.

“C’est quoi ce bordel?! I-I’m not gonna sleep with you,” she stutters, followed by possible reasons as to why but they just come out as jumbled mess. ‘You’re Mordred’s girl’, and ‘I don’t even like you’ and lastly ‘I don’t like _anyone_ to begin with’. I put my hand on her mouth to shut her up, we do not need to bring the attention to us.

“Ssh! Where did you get that idea to begin with? I just want to talk to you about being an Alter,” I tell her, before she bites my finger. “Oww…”

“Then why did you have to make it sound so weird?! Dumbass,” Jeanne Alter growls, blaming the whole misunderstanding on me alone. She could have just asked for clarification. “Follow me.”

After opening the door to what turns out to be her room, Jeanne Alter waits for me to get in and then closes and even locks the door. As if this would be any useful, everyone in this castle is a Servant who could bust this door of they wanted to. Maybe it is more of an unconscious habit. She sits down on her bed, letting me awkwardly stand in a corner, letting my gaze wander through the empty, bland room. It actually reminds me a bit of myself, I think.

“So, what do you want?” Ah, so she does not want to waste any time. Not a surprise that she is not much of a smalltalk fan, it is pretty obvious that Jeanne Alter is not exactly a social person.

“Well,” I start, my fingers fidgeting nervously. Honestly, I am not even sure myself if this gets me anywhere. “You are an Alter of Jeanne d’Arc, right?” She nods approvingly, though her eyes narrow annoyedly.

“Yeah, what about it?” Jeanne seems not to be her favourite topic to talk about.

“You are an own Servant, though. Mordred instead…just became _this_. How can that happen?” Jeanne Alter shrugs disinterestedly. I hold back a sigh. “Is it possible to turn an Alter back to normal?”

“How would _I_ know?” That is indeed a very good question. “I’m not Jeanne, Jeanne’s not me. We share a similar look, but we’re completely different persons. Same with your abuser.”

“Do not talk like that about Mordred,” I warn her. This has been more of a knee jerk reaction to protect Mordred, even though Jeanne Alter is pretty much right. At least about the current Mordred. “But she could change from Mordred _to_ Mordred Alter. Why should that be irreversible?”

“I’m not the grail, neither a Master. Seriously, how would _I_ know?!” I feel like this is really going nowhere, this girl is way too stubborn to be of any help. I wish she was more like the actual Jeanne d’Arc.

“Sorry,” I mutter defeated. “I thought, since you are an Alter yourself, that you would be a help.” I look back at the door, remembering it is locked. Before I can turn the key to let myself out, Jeanne Alter’s angry voice interrupts me.

“ _Excuse me_ for not being the Jeanne you know!”

“…What?” I am taken aback by this sudden outburst, especially now that she is standing up again.

“I bet you just thought how much more of a help _she_ would be, right? That naïve, delusional goody two shoes! Offering herself for the people who sentenced her to death. _Ridiculous_!” I feel like Jeanne Alter is straying a bit further from the initial topic.

“Do you hate her?”

“Of course I do! Those failed morals, smiling even as she greets death… Burning served her right. I’d burn her again on the spot if I could, along with all those fools.” I actually have caught this contradiction. She is angry at the people who betrayed her other self, the Jeanne d’Arc history knows.

“Why did you not burn her one of the last times, then? You had at least two chances now,” I ask her. Though I feel like I know the answer to that anyways.

“She’s way too pathetic, I couldn’t. That’s all.” She lowers her voice with every word she utters. This makes me smile.

“You like her,” I notice. “She is you, after all.” Her cheeks seem to heat up and she grits her teeth, as if I was right on the mark with my guess.

“I-Idiotic! How could I like that fool?” Jeanne Alter slowly gets easier and easier to read, just by paying attention to her expression.

“You feel bad for her, and you want to _avenge_ her because she would not do it herself, right?”

“Tch,” she only grits her teeth in response, as if she knows anything she may say to her defence would only be held against her in the end.

This conversation has turned out to be not completely useless. While Jeanne Alter has not provided much direct help, our interaction opened up a very important information to me: Original and Alter, deep inside, they are the same. Jeanne d’Arc and Jeanne Alter may have almost contradicting personalities, but deep inside both of them are kind, caring girls.

Mordred, albeit turned _Alter_ now, still has her original self, deep inside of her.


	14. Chapter 14

### RECENT EVENTS

* * *

 

Dedicated about saving Mordred from herself, Hakuno managed to convince Jeanne Alter to help her out – by slipping out and contacting Jeanne, who’s the one Servant Hakuno figures would be calm enough to even talk to Jeanne Alter and listen. Morgan knew Hakuno would try something like this, which is why she found out about their plan of rebellion and leaked it to Mordred. Before Mordred could act, however, Neo Roma broke into the castle. Altera managed to end Jack, and had her wounds mostly healed by growing back to her normal age and height after the battle. Nero and Tamamo battled Mordred Alter, but due to Hakuno asking them not to hurt her it was a rough battle.

Morgan easily ended Nobunaga before she could hurt her plans anymore, appearing with Arturia (now Lancer) on a chain, commenting on how much trouble this brought her but how worth it was, indicating some twisted attraction towards her sister. While Jeanne Alter actively fought Arturia Lancer, Jeanne managed to bring Arturia back to her senses, after which she fought and won against Scáthach, leaving no one but Morgan and Mordred on their side.

Morgan is cornered and explained that even if she wanted to, she couldn’t turn Mordred back to normal as it wasn’t her directly who turned her, but the feelings of rejection and hatred Mordred carried in her heart. She merely gave her a push. Hakuno asks her if she would be able to save Mordred, and Morgan said she doesn’t know but it wouldn’t be impossible.

Hakuno realised she’d need her memories for that and thus Neo Roma ‘asked’ Morgan to give Hakuno back her memories, to which she complies. No sense in having her blood shed. She kissed Hakuno – longer than necessary – after which every memory flows back into Hakuno’s mind. She feels even more guilty than before about what she did to Mordred, but now understands why she did so.

And it’s _her_ responsibility to save Mordred, as she was the one who effectively caused all this – so, she calls Nero and Tamamo back to face Mordred herself.

* * *

 

### LAST CHAPTER - FINAL CATACLYSM

* * *

 

“Mordred, this needs to stop!” I say, raising my voice as I usually don’t, just to reach my former Servant and lover.

“So, you’re against me, too? Like everyone else?!” Mordred has lost all sense, she doesn’t listen to me, whatever I say. I see her charging at me. Maybe actions speak louder than words possibly could, maybe this is the only way to show her that I accept and love her, the way she is. I always have and always will, no matter what.

The other Servants – except for Morgan – cry out my name as Mordred’s blade connects with me, tearing my cloth apart at the side and breaking my skin. It’s a deep wound with numbing pain, I don’t even need to look down to make out that I’m bleeding too much. But I don’t care about this minor detail right now.

I wrap my arms around the blonde Servant in front of me, holding her tightly. She doesn’t resist, but my legs grow to weak to support my weight too fast, I drop down being held by nothing but Mordred’s arms which keep me from hitting the ground.

“Why,” she asks, tears dwelling up. “Why’d you do that?”

“Silly,” I smile. “How could I fight you?” I collect the remainders of my strength to bring my hand to her face, softly caressing her cheeks. I look into the blueish green eyes that returned, feeling as though I have just fallen in love with this girl again just like this.

“But, you…” I put my finger in front of her lips to stop her from whatever she’s going to say, I don’t want to her it. I don’t want her to feel sad or guilty for what happened, as it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have forgotten.

“I’m sorry for abandoning you, and for making you feel lonely. I’m really…sorry,” I say and I can just barely feel my arm drop back down. My lungs hurt like they are on fire, breathing, a usually so menial task, becomes a painful chore that I am sure I cannot bear for much longer. But there is one more thing I need her to know.

As if she’s read my mind, she moves her ear in front of my mouth to catch any mumble of mine.

“When I…went to the Moon Cell’s core… I wished for us to…live together,” I mutter, using the very last remaining strength to tell her that. Her eyes widen in shock and understanding that I never even considered abandoning her, but just had to.

“Stupid,” Mordred sobs.

My torso feels colder with the passing time, despite my warm blood staining my clothes, Mordred’s arms and the ground below us. I cannot keep my eyes open anymore, everything I hear is slightly toned out, as though I hear it through a thick wall.

Every Servant has gathered around us, and I’m sure Mordred is already mourning for me. I wish I could tell her how much I love her, hold her and comfort her. Tell her I’m still here, at least for now, but I can’t.

I know no one holds her responsible for this. The Servants I know aren’t those kind of persons, they wouldn’t have become Heroic Spirits if they held such grudges. Mordred is in good hands now, and with that small satisfaction my consciousness fades for good, although I’m sure a faint smile decorates my face one last time.

* * *

 

“Please, father, do it.” Mordred states with so much determination that arguing seemed futile.

“That won’t bring Praetor back! I don’t think she’d be happy knowing you’d get yourself killed over this,” Nero complains, not bothering to hold her tears back.

“It’s not about that,” Mordred says, not faltering.

“Are you sure?” Arturia asks, readying Rhongomyniad, knowing that this decision would have to be final.

“Yeah,” Mordred nods.

“But…why?” Jeanne asks, not understanding the reason, if there is any.

“Hakuno sacrificed everything for me. I just… I want the chance to meet her again.”

“That isn’t necessarily bound to happen,” Altera reminds her. “You might just end up back where you were before being summoned.”

“Don’t care.”

Morgan chuckles. “Don’t bother, my child is a stubborn one. If she set her mind, she will not change it.”

“Father, please,” Mordred asks Arturia one more time. “I know it’s selfish to just fuck off after this mess. But I need to take that chance.”

Arturia nods. “I understand, and I respect your decision. Prepare yourself.”

**_“Rhongomyniad!!”_ **

And as written in history, once more the holy lance pierced Mordred’s body, making her cough up blood before falling to the ground next to her dead lover, smiling as faintly as her.

* * *

 

THE END

* * *

 

**AN:** I’m aware this is probably kinda unsatisfying. Truth to be told, I’ve simply lost any and every motivation to write on this fic because I’ve simply lost the interest in the Fate franchise. It has a lot of reasons (the bullshit that was Last Encore, for example) and even right after I started this fic I felt my interest slowly fading. I figured that, maybe, I could just finish before my interest is gone completely but that didn’t work as well.

Instead, I reached the point where I couldn’t bring myself to write on this anymore a while ago. Whenever I opened the document and was about to write, I instantly lost the motivation and closed it again. I took some hiatus, figuring that maybe time will fix the issues, but it didn’t. So I decided for this way to bring it to a closure. I’ve summarized chapter 14 – 19 like this, and wrote a short version of chapter 20 as final chapter.

Sorry to disappoint but this is all I can offer.

Thanks for following this story anyways and feel free to stick around for other stuff I write!


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